Nataku's Tears
by MeeLee
Summary: [COMPLETE] Post-war. Wufei's inner pain finally catches up to him, and he suddenly disappears. Now the pilots must find him, else the entire world will be forfeit...but what if he doesn't want to be found? Please R&R.
1. Upgrades

**A/N: **Hi, minna-san! Well, this is actually my first _official_ fic in the Gundam Wing section.  I watch the Taiwanese bootleg version, so I don't know if I have all the names of the organizations and stuff correct, but just bear with me, okay? I'm trying my best.

           First off, a bit of clarification in regards to Wufei's name.  His full name is Chang Wufei (Wu-Fei and Wu Fei will also do fine); Chang is his last name, Wufei his first.  Therefore, if you (and Heero in EW) are in the habit of calling him Chang, you're calling him by his last name instead of his first.  His name is pronounced something like "zhong oo-fay", and the Western version of his name would be Wufei Chang although since Gundam Wing is Japanese they would naturally do it the correct way.

           So now that I've cleared that up…on to the story.  Um, I'm not really sure if the scientists died in that last war with the Earth vs. White Fang, when they blew up the ship Libra.  I'm assuming in my story that they survived (if they appeared again in EW then sorry, I haven't seen the movie in a long time).  I was also pretty free to fool with Master O's personality as I wished, since he only had one real feature moment in the series (when he beat Duo up).

           I'm trying to make sure no characters are OOC, but I'd appreciate any comments you may have.

           All right, update again ASAP.  Enjoy!

Nataku's Tears

**COLONY C-137.  1440 HOURS.**

**6 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

           It was a masterpiece.

           Master O had never felt so proud.  After welding in the thick metal plate, he straightened, noting the aching pain in his back, and jumped down from the Gundam to survey his work.  It did not look much different from when it had first been brought in, but it now had one little addition.  Altron was truly complete.

           No one would be able to best this Gundam now, not with his new weapon.

           Turning from the giant machine, Master O made his way down the dark balcony to a dark corner, where an even darker person was sitting.  "Wufei."

           The shadow looked up.  Master O smiled.  "It's finished."

           Seventeen-year-old Chang Wufei nodded slowly and got to his feet.  "Xie-xie." 

           "Don't mention it," Master O said.  He knew Wufei wouldn't.  Together they walked down toward the Gundam.

           As he watched the young man seat himself inside Altron's spacious cockpit, Master O couldn't help noticing the pang of—what was it? Grief? Pain? Maybe both—that flickered in his black eyes.  Inwardly he shook his head.  He was only seventeen years old and already he had endured more than a ninety-year-old war veteran.  He wouldn't be surprised if Wufei were to go crazy one day; he could see it coming.  In the meantime, though, there was work to do.

           With the growing threat of MANTA-6, there was always work to do.

           The entire building shook as Altron's engines exploded to life.  The giant machine rose and came to life as if embodied with some magical spell, although Master O knew the only magician was science.  With a deep, thunderous roar as if bellowing out a challenge to the sky, Altron shot off to meet it.

           The scientist stayed where he was for a long moment, watching as it became no more than an unintelligible speck against the blueness of the L5 colony's sky.  He knew he would eventually be seeing Altron—and Wufei—again in the near future, but he could never help feeling something akin to sadness whenever he had to watch it go.  Wufei was his son, but Altron was his life.

           And now both had left him.

           Turning away, he closed the huge sliding doors opening up into the sky and headed down a side hallway into what he would consider his own living chambers.  With the relative peace followed by the destruction of OZ, he spent more time here in his personal laboratory than he would have liked.

           _Peace._  That was an interesting word, he thought as he stretched out his muscles, sore and cramped from not moving from one position for several hours.  It seemed like a wonderful idea: world peace, peaceful times, peace, peace, peace.  But peace was only a fantasy.  To strive for peace was like trying to touch a star with your feet planted firmly on the ground.  It's there, teasing you, tormenting you with its beauty.  You think you might have it, but you have attained nothing.  It's never there, no matter what you try.

           They knew this.  Doctor J, Professor G, Doctor S, and Instructor H all knew this.  Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, and Quatre Winner all knew this.  Chang Wufei knew this.  

           He knew this.  And that was what had compelled him, alone, with no one else save Wufei's knowledge, to install the new weapon secretly on Altron.  He was not threatening this false peace by doing it.  He was simply insuring that, when the waves inevitably began to break, the ship called Earth would have a hull strong enough to withstand the pounding of the colonies.

           The storm was MANTA-6.

           Master O slowly shook his head.  MANTA-6.  One of the greatest threats to Earth and the colonies alike, that both forces chose to ignore.  MANTA-6 had been an inconspicuous branch of OZ, specializing in colonial intelligence and especially weapons development.  Steadily, over the war-torn years, it had expanded into its own headquarters situated on a space station similar to a miniature colony, located not far from where he himself lived, somewhere just beyond the L5 colony cluster.  While the roaring fire that was OZ had died down into ashes, the world in its blindness of peace had chosen to turn from the glowing spark that was MANTA-6 and look the other way.  Master O, having probed extensively into MANTA-6's files, was almost certain that this organization could very well light the flame of war once again in the not-so-distant future.

           He firmly believed that Altron's new weapon would serve as the means to extinguish this spark.

           He turned then, took one step toward the door—and jumped when an alarm suddenly went off, wailing like a siren.  He immediately recognized the warning: perimeter breach.

           "Who—"

           The alarm was cut off, and an ominous silence descended into the vast laboratory.  Suddenly a deep, booming voice said over the intercom, "Master O."

           _Voice changer,_ Master O thought.

           "It is a pity we did not arrive early enough to detain Altron.  However, it is not too great of a loss if you agree to cooperate with us."

           _Just who is "us"? _Master O wondered.

           "At this moment, there are more than a dozen well-trained snipers posted around the building, as well as three times more soldiers who are under orders to shoot anyone who comes out a door or a window.  We have deployed two strike teams into your laboratory who will discover and apprehend you in a few more moments.  The building is rigged with explosives that will go off at any exit point.  We do not recommend that you attempt anything rash."

           Master O kept silent.  Very slowly he crept across the room, reached into a drawer, and extracted a hand pistol.

           "We respect your wisdom, Master O.  We trust that you will not try anything stupid.  We only need you to answer a few questions regarding the weapon you recently started building.

           "It is a very intriguing project, really.  A laser of some sort, from the information we have been able to gather.  Most interesting.  We would like to know more about this weapon of yours."

           There were several special escape hatches installed throughout the building, specifically designed for emergencies such as this.  They were all embedded under the metal floorboards, nearly impossible to locate unless you were the one who installed them, and they would lead you to the nearest escape route: namely, an airport, a garage, or a dock.  The closest escape hatch, he knew, was two hallways down and one right, located just underneath the third stall in the restroom.

           If he could make it that far alive, he would be able to escape.

           "Master O, if you do not wish to die a very painful death, please do as we say."

           There was a trapdoor in the next room that would run under the first hallway and emerge at the opening of the second.  Inwardly, Master O smiled.  His entire laboratory had been built with an underground maze through which only he knew how to successfully navigate.

           "You will make your way quietly out from wherever you are hiding and present yourself to our soldiers waiting in the main computer room.  You will come in with your hands up.  No weapons, please."

           Master O slowly opened the door, poking his head out only a bit and glancing down both ends of the hallway.  No one there.  With the stealth of a cat and the speed of a hare, he darted out, ran five steps down the hallway, and literally leaped into the adjoining room, keeping his pistol cocked all the while.  Closing the door behind him, he allowed himself a deep, releasing breath.  This didn't happen to you every day.

           "Master O, you have one minute to do as we say.  If you do not show up as requested, we will release our strike teams and have you brought in by force.  If you should attempt anything, we will blow up the building." The intercom was now silent.

           Master O crossed the room, bent down, and pulled lightly at one of the square floorboards.  It gave way easily, coming up as if it had been built to be removed—it had.  Underneath it was a yawning black hole.  Master O lowered himself into it.

           He was now in a hallway dimly lit by tiny lights.  Carefully closing the trapdoor behind him, he made his way down the hall and within moments found himself at a dead end.  He was not discouraged, however.  Looking up, he could see in the dim lighting another trapdoor.

           Here was the dangerous part.  Gently pushing the trapdoor up just a fraction of an inch, he peeked through and saw nothing but an empty hallway.  Quickly he opened the trapdoor the whole way and hoisted himself up.  Two more hallways to go.  If he ran, he could make it before the minute was up—

           "Your time is up, Master O.  We are profoundly sorry."

           He cursed silently and without hesitating bolted down the hallway, not particularly caring about the sound his footsteps made on the hard metal floor.  He could see where the second hallway ended and opened up into the third on the right.  If he could just make it seven steps down the third hallway and into the restroom, he would be safe.

           Bringing up his hand holding the pistol, he skidded down the end of the second hallway, turned into the third—

           Masked soldiers were at the end of the third hallway, his escape hatch right in the middle.  Upon seeing him, they immediately opened fire; he did the only thing available: he continued skidding and slid all the way past the opening onto the other side of the third hallway.  Gripping his pistol firmly, he took a deep breath to steady himself, watching as the wall before him became riddled with bullets.

           He recognized the uniform.  They were OZ soldiers.

           Or rather, MANTA-6.

           He could hear the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching; they would round the corner and see him at any moment.  He took another deep breath to try and clear his head: how many soldiers were there? It looked like three, but there could have been more in the shadows.  Let's put it at double the number: there were six soldiers, more or less.  All had guns, all were intent on killing him if he resisted, which he intended to do.  They were running toward him and would come around soon.

           He could shoot two, at most three, if he caught them by surprise.  He could use one of their corpses as a shield, shooting from behind it until he made his way into the restroom.  The door was thick and could probably withstand their bullets for a minute or two, more than enough time for him to get down the escape hatch and out of the laboratory.

           So that was the plan.

           They were getting closer.  Master O took another breath, knowing very well that it could be his last.  Then he leaped out from the corner and turned into the hallway, already firing.  The little pistol bucked in his hand and threatened to fall but he kept a good grip on it.  His first two bullets hit their targets, and the soldiers fell even as Master O got his first good look: five soldiers, not six as predicted.  But he hadn't shot down three, as he would have liked.

           He continued firing as the soldiers ducked for cover.  In their surprise they had not thought to fire yet, but in a split second one of them was bound to.  Master O quickly backed to the wall and bent down to seize one of the fallen soldiers—

           A bullet slammed into his shoulder.  _No!_ He tried to raise his gun but another one entered, then another.  The pistol dropped to the floor.  Pain erupted everywhere; the agony was too much to bear—it was as if his entire body was on fire.  He was suddenly overcome by an overwhelming fatigue, and he told himself he could rest a moment before resuming the fight.  Rest a bit, because he was tired from all that running he had done before.  He was getting old.  He should rest, maybe even take a nap.  Maybe…

           He looked up, his vision rapidly darkening.  One of the MANTA-6 soldiers stood over him, a gun pointed straight at his head.  The man pulled the trigger.

           _Altron._

           He thought no more.


	2. Laughter

**A/N: **Well, this chapter is mainly a soliloquy on Wufei's part, where you get to see exactly what his mental condition is (or isn't o_0).

            Err, I am perfectly aware that the five pilots self-destructed their Gundams after Endless Waltz.  Again, just as with the scientists, I'm saying they didn't for this story to function properly. ^_^U So, uh, ignore the little tweaky details, please.

            A big thanks to **Kiarene** for the review.

**COLONY R-119.  1525 HOURS.**

**6 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            Chang Wufei stood alone just outside the main city—well, not entirely alone.  Altron stood regally behind him, frozen in a kneeling position where he had left it, the cockpit hatch still open.

            Wufei looked up at the sky above him—except it was not blue.  It was, instead, a dull mixture of different shades of grey, interrupted by dark lines and crooked marks where the thick metal tiles connected with each other.  He glared, and resisted the urge to spit.  Why?

            Why had these monstrosities even been built?

            It was because of these colonies that the war had started: the war that had completely changed his life, and had left him a hopeless, broken man.  Yes, they called it peace now.  But Wufei only knew the war, the fighting.  For him, peace did not exist.

            Neither around him, nor in his own mind.

            His surroundings seemed calm enough now.  Negotiations had long since started between Earth and the colonies, and he heard from news reports that they were going well enough.  The Gundam pilots had scattered and he had not heard from them in several months.

            Good riddance.

            Yes, his body and his environment were calm.  But his mind was in turmoil.

            He had been mortally wounded, not during the war, but before it.  With the death of Meiran, his wife.  She had been a strong woman, with an even stronger heart.  Although he had never dared to show it, he admired and even envied that strength.  Even after her death, he had wanted no more than to match her in intensity.

            Even up to now, he had not yet succeeded.

            Perhaps that was what frustrated him the most.  Maybe that was why he battled with a sort of emptiness, destroying everything in his path in the name of some obscurity called "justice." That was why he had felt so defeated by Treize, by OZ, by the Mobile Dolls, by everyone, even after he had sliced them into a few thousand pieces.  He always felt as if what he did wasn't enough—he needed to do more, to make more of a difference, but there was only so much he could do.

            And that frustrated him, because somewhere, always in the black depths of his mind that he dared not explore, he could hear her.  He could hear Meiran laughing at him, laughing at his weaknesses.  And her laughter drove him to even greater heights of insanity.

            He fought harder, worked harder, because he could not bear her laughter.  And yet, it was always there.  It only made him fight with even more vigor.

            Except now there was no more fighting.  This false peace that had descended upon the people was keeping his restless spirit in check.  He felt something growing inside him, something dark, ominous and powerful, bubbling and boiling inside his mind, screaming to be released.  It had been with him a long time, this feeling—ever since Meiran's death.  It was the feeling of failure, of being useless, because he had been unable to save her.  It had been with him all throughout the war, and he had managed to silence it somewhat by battling in Shenlong, and then Altron.  But now that there was no more fighting, the realization that he was a failure had hit him on full force, and was slowly driving him to his limits.

            He knew what would happen.  Not immediately, but eventually.  He would go insane.  Lose it.  Crack.  Go mad.  End up in the nuthouse.

            He needed something to crush all his emotions, to deliver him from his agony.  Some sort of…distraction.  A diversion.  A new way of life.

            He smiled then, a small smile, practically overflowing with nostalgia.  His first thought, his first solution: death.  Death ended everything, and there were so many options for suicide these days, what with all the new weapons and technologies governments had been developing.  It was ironic, he supposed: you think you are helping people by creating these things, when instead you are only giving them another way to kill themselves—and others.  The colonies were one example.

            The Gundams were another.

            He turned slightly, allowing his eyes to fall passively on Altron, still posed behind him.  There was no doubting it: it was the greatest masterpiece Wufei had ever seen.  Graceful arcs and blends of the Gundanium alloy, a splash of artfully-selected color here and there.  And the armaments invisible on the outside, but nevertheless making this machine one of the most efficient and cold-blooded killers mankind had ever laid its eyes on.

            Wufei smiled again at that.  Yes, he was a killer.  Singlehandedly he had ended the lives of so many men from so many different organizations and parts of the world: OZ, the Federation, the Treize faction, the Longfeller Foundation, White Fang…

            People with futures.  People with dreams, hopes, ambitions.  He had ended them all, by himself, of his own will.

            In some ways, he enjoyed that sort of power.

            In others, he hated it like nothing else.

            He remembered the battles.  The full adrenaline rush he got every time he felt Altron's powerful engines roaring to life, propelling him into the sea of stars.  How, with the push of a button or the tilt of a joystick, he could swing Altron's mighty trident every which way, cutting through everything, or activate its double Dragon Fangs, beautiful lethal weapons, those.  How he had to squint to see through the brilliance of the explosions and fireballs blossoming around him, heard the slight _tap taps_ of pieces of shrapnel bouncing off of Altron's surface.

            It was hazy, though.  He didn't remember the real image as clearly as the feeling.  In fact, come to think of it, he didn't remember anything too well these days.  It must be a side effect of his own gradual mental deterioration.

            Which brought him back to the real point: he needed something to keep him from going out of his mind.  And as he looked up at Altron, glinting magnificently in the fading sunlight, he decided that death was not the best way to go.

            "No, Nataku.  Not until I can become stronger."

            He did not even realize he had spoken the words out loud; the sound of his own voice meant nothing to him.

            He knew of a place where he could go, where he could disappear for a good while, melt into the background, and let everybody forget about him.  Where he could concentrate on sorting out the jumble of his thoughts and his emotions, and gaining control once again of his own mind.

            He looked up again at Altron.  Where he was going, Nataku could not follow.  But he could not simply destroy the Gundam, not with the new weapon Master O had so thoughtfully installed for him; he had yet to test it out.  After he tested himself out first, of course.

            So he could not take Altron with him.  He could not destroy it.

            He had to find a place to store it for a while.  A long while, it could turn out.

            Several possibilities flashed through his mind: Howard would be more than happy to help out.  Master O's laboratory was a secure location.  Any military facility, in fact, would be delighted to take something like Altron in for a few weeks, even a few months, if it came to that.  All could keep it secret well enough.

            But he had a problem with that; he couldn't explain it, but he felt uncomfortable whenever he saw Nataku in anybody's hands but his own.  So he turned away from the world, and looked to himself instead.

            He definitely could not leave it on a colony; they were too small and, for the most part, their inhabitants were too nosy for their own good.  So that left any convenient spot on that wonderful, lush green planet called Earth.

            Turning from the dull colonial scenery, he walked up to his Gundam and leaped deftly into the cockpit, seating himself comfortably and fastening himself firmly to the chair.  He pressed a button, and the control panels closed up around him.

            "Let's go, Nataku," he said, and started up the engines.


	3. Threat

**A/N: **Yes, I'm back, even though no one seems to have noticed. ^_^U Anyway, here's where the story truly begins with the weapon that has been launched against Earth.  You'll see what I mean soon enough.

            As always, read and review!

**NASA R-77C SS.  1530 HOURS.**

**6 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            Baterson yawned as his eyes scanned the monitor screens before him for what seemed like the hundredth time.  He was only about fifteen minutes into his shift and he was already bored to tears.  It was one of the consequences for being a Supervisor of Stellar Data.  Fancy name, boring job.

            He turned at the sound of the door sliding open with a soft hiss and smiled.  Marks, one of his coworkers and close friends, stepped inside, holding a steaming mug in each hand.  "Got some coffee to keep you awake," he said as the door slid shut behind him.  "Sorry, they automatically added the sugar and milk."

            Baterson shot out of his seat.  "What did you say?" he sputtered, and ran up to peer fearfully into his cup.  Then he laughed.  "Man, I hate it when you do that."

            Marks grinned and handed him the mug, full of completely black coffee.  "And I love it when you do _that._"

            Baterson rolled his eyes and sank back into his chair, taking a careful sip as Marks joined him at another seat.  "Anything exciting on the monitors?" he asked.

            Baterson shrugged.  "Of course," he said, "The sun.  Planets.  A couple of colonies floating here and there.  Stars, stars, and stars.  Oh, and did I mention stars?"

            Marks laughed.  "Well, at least you don't—holy shit, what is _that?_" He jabbed a finger at the screen directly behind Baterson.

            Baterson looked, saw nothing, and turned back just in time to catch Marks snorting into his mug.  "Not funny, Brian," he said, glaring in mock-anger.

            His friend just shrugged.  "It's priceless, the look on your face," he said, and then he continued, "As I was saying, at least you don't have to work too hard.  Since nothing happens, you have nothing to do, and you still get paid a full thirteen thousand a month.  So I wouldn't be complaining about being bored.  There are probably a couple billion people out there who would kill to have your job."

            Baterson sighed as he took another long draught of coffee, savoring the taste before he said, "Still, I wish NASA would let me do something _useful_ for a change.  I mean, it's easy enough sitting around here all day watching Halley's Comet chase its tail, but it gets pretty damn boring after a while."

            Marks nodded.  "Yeah, I can see what you mean.  But I know the perfect solution to this."

            "What's that?"

            Marks's already giant smile broadened even more.  "A girl."

            Baterson rolled his eyes.  "Oh man, not this talk again…"

            "C'mon, Tony, I'm serious," Marks said, leaning forward, "I mean, ever since you and Patricia broke up, you've buried yourself in your work.  It's time to move on, y'know, see other people, experiment with a few pretty women, see which one fits you, and then—holy shit, what is _that?_" He pointed at the same monitor screen behind Baterson.

            Baterson only smiled.  "I'm not falling for it this time, Brian," he said.

            But the look on his friend's face was enough to convince Baterson to turn around.  He jumped when he saw what looked like a profoundly large chunk of something-or-other making its way calmly and passively across screen B-7.  Both Baterson and Marks knew, however, that it was far from moving calmly and passively.  It had to be traveling at close to several thousand kilometers per hour.

            "Looks like some sort of asteroid or meteor or something," Baterson said, his hands flying over the keyboard.  "It must've passed Mars a while ago, and has now just entered the range of the sensors."

            Marks shrugged then.  "Don't worry," he said, "Judging by its travel arc, it'll probably bypass the colonies by a few hundred thousand miles."

            Baterson continued typing.  "I'll plot its course, just to be safe," he said.  He entered several commands into the mainframe, and after a few moments of data processing, the computer spit out a perfect image of the asteroid's path in regards to the colonies and Earth.

            Baterson paled.  "Shit!"

            Marks looked up.  "What's wrong?" he said, "I'm telling you, it's not gonna hit the colonies."

            "It's not the colonies we're worrying about now!" Baterson cried, turning from the control panel and running to the phone hanging on the wall.  Snatching off the receiver, he dialed a number and yelled into the phone, "This is Supervisor of Stellar Data, reporting from Monitor Center on R-77C.  We have an emergency situation!"

            Marks had gotten to his feet, walked up to the screen, and was now perusing it carefully.  His eyes followed from where a glowing red blotch showed the asteroid, down a single blinking dotted line that was the asteroid's predicted path, straight down to…

            He let his mug slip out of his hands, where it shattered into pieces on the metal floor.  "Holy Mother of God," he whispered, his entire body paralyzed.

            Baterson was still on the phone.  "I repeat, we have an emergency situation!" he cried. "There's an asteroid approaching, and it's on a direct collision course with Earth!"

**MANTA-6 HQ SS.  1532 HOURS.**

**6 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            They were all gathered in the control room, where they could see playing on the main screen the same image Baterson and Marks had been so alarmed about.  "They have just reported it in, sir," one of the men said.

            "Perfect," a man dressed in officer's uniform said behind him.  "Systems check?"

            "All systems go, sir."

            "Great job.  Keep up the good work, gentlemen."

            He turned, and was faced by another officer, this one of lower rank.  "This was an excellent idea, Commander Lane.  Now the world will finally tremble before the power of MANTA-6."

            Commander Lane smiled.  "They will not only tremble," he said, "They will bow." He turned back to the men observing their masterpiece.  "Keep me informed, gentlemen."

            "Yes, sir."

            He walked out of the room.


	4. Decision

**A/N: **Uh oh, time for an international panic now! I know the ending of this chapter is kinda corny…

            Thanks to **Senshi** (YAY!) and **neko** for reviewing.

**WASHINGTON.DC.  1540 HOURS.**

**6 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            "This way, sir," the uniformed guard said as he led the man, accompanied by three bodyguards, down another corridor.

            Byron Mertel heaved a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he walked.  At this time, on this day, he would have given almost anything not to be the head of NASA.  Not to be here, on his way to a meeting with the President of the United States and who knew how many people who were nearly as important.  Not to have to announce to them what he was going to announce.

            Their guide came to a stop before two massive wooden double doors.  Nodding to the two Army officers standing guard outside, he pushed them wide open and stepped aside to allow Mertel into the room.  His three bodyguards respectfully stayed behind.

            The room felt stuffy, or maybe that was because of Mertel's own nervousness.  He had only been in this room once in his entire life, but the matters they had discussed then were nothing compared to what they would be informed of now.

            "Gentlemen," he said, crossing immediately to the speaker's podium, knowing no one would object, "and ladies." He nodded to several of the female Senators seated along the long tables facing him.  He then inclined his head slightly in the direction of a tall man seated at the head of the table.  "Mr. President, sir."

            The President nodded.  "Mr. Mertel.  I'm glad you could join us."

            "Thank you, sir."

            "Please proceed with what information you have gathered so far."

            "Yes, sir." Mertel took a deep breath and almost involuntarily brought his hand up to wipe the sweat collecting on his brow.  This wasn't going to be pretty.  Turning from all of them, he took up the remote that controlled the slide projector at the back of the room and pressed the single red button in the middle.

            An image flickered to life on the giant white screen behind him.  It was a still copy of what had been sent to them from their observation space station: a single giant dark clump of mass, seeming to be hovering suspended in space, although Mertel knew it was far from being so.

            There would be no beating around the bush today.  He was going straight to the point.

            "This is an asteroid," he said, "Approximately seven hundred kilometers in width, even longer in length.  At this moment, it is hurtling at an estimated speed of around twelve hundred kilometers per hour, headed straight for our planet."

            He clicked the button again, and another image replaced the first one, this time a mapping of the asteroid's route.  "Judging from the speed of the asteroid and its current distance from Earth, I'd say we have a week, at most, before it wipes out all life on the face of the planet."

            One of the Senators, well-educated in science, shook his head.  "An asteroid of that size would do some considerable damage, yes," he said, "But it's not enough to completely destroy the earth."

            Mertel forced a bitter smile.  "If only its size mattered, then you would be right, Senator," he said. "Unfortunately, size isn't the only punch this rock packs." Another image came up, this one showing what looked like a cross-section of the giant space rock.  The majority of the asteroid was composed of what looked like thick dark rock, but there was one spot, right at the center and forming an almost perfect oval at the heart of the asteroid, that was colored a light gray.

            "This is an image we managed to get of the asteroid using special X-rays emitted from our space station," Mertel explained.  He picked up a pointer, pulled it out to its full length, and tapped the slide as he spoke.  "As you can see, most of the asteroid is made up of regular minerals and metals, mostly iron and nickel, the usual stuff you find in space debris.  But this section" —he tapped the light spot— "is made not of metal, but of _alloy._"

            His words produced the expected effect: a low rumble went through the room as all present realized what he was getting at.

            Mertel took a deep breath; it was time for the cold water.  "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "At the core of this asteroid lies a man-made weapon of mass destruction.  We have reason to believe that this weapon, when detonated upon collision with the planet, will wipe out the human race on Earth and the colonies alike."

            He clicked the remote once again, and this time the image that came on was a time-lapse video, showing a computer-generated model of the asteroid hitting the Earth, and the resulting explosion that engulfed the planet in liquid flame, then shot up to claim the colonies as well.

            He set the pointer and the remote down, placed both hands on the podium, and leaned forward.  "We have one week, people.  What are we gonna do about this?"

            The same Senator who had posed the question of their survival before now once again raised his voice to be heard clearly above the others.  "Who would be sick enough to do something like this?" he asked.

            "It's pointless," another person, one of the many foreign leaders present, added.  "Blow up the earth, and themselves in the process."

            "Oh no, it's not that pointless." Everyone turned to see one of the four scientists present rise to his feet with the slow unsteadiness of old age.  They all knew these men: they were famous—or infamous—for their contributions during the mobile war.

            "It's not pointless when you have nothing to lose," Doctor J said.

            Mertel turned to face him.  "Then do you know who might've done this, doctor?" he asked, pronouncing the title with more sarcasm than he intended.

            The old man turned to face him with an enigmatic smile that made Mertel shiver.  "Perhaps," he said.  "I would have to look further into it to be sure, of course."

            The President nodded.  "We are prepared to provide you with whatever you may need, doctors," he said, addressing all four scientists.  "Do you think that, once we discover who launched the weapon, we could find out how to destroy it?"

            Doctor S stood up to accompany his comrade.  "Not at all," he said.

            "What does that mean?" Mertel demanded from the podium.

            "It means that, if it turns out to be who we think it is," Professor G said, also getting to his feet, "they'll have taken apart the 'abort' button."

            "But that does not pose too much of a problem for us," Instructor H said, not even bothering to stand up.  "There is one way we can destroy the asteroid, with or without their cooperation."

            "And what might that be, gentlemen?" the President asked.

            Doctor J's smile broadened, and his metal glasses glinted.  "Gundam."


	5. Defeated

**A/N: **Let me quickly clear something up about this chapter: the word "sifu", as many of you are undoubtedly familiar with, means "master" in Chinese.  The word "tudi", which is probably less familiar, means "pupil" or "student".

            The rest of the Gundam pilots make an appearance in the next chapter.  Sorry to keep you waiting.

            Thanks to **neko** and **Ra** for reviewing.

**SHANGHAI.  0617 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            Master Zhen watched quietly as his former pupil slowly swung the staff in his hands, getting used to its feel once more after several years of non-use.  It was hand-carved from a very sturdy hardwood that could only be found in one section of the rainforest, and it could deal out more than the necessary amount of damage.

            "Has a good grip, Chang-tudi?" he asked, studying his student carefully.

            Wufei turned, bowed slightly, and nodded.  "Yes, Sifu."

            "Very good." Turning, Master Zhen slid another staff gracefully off of the rack behind him.  "Let us begin by warming up."

            "Yes, Sifu."

            They began circling.

            As Wufei took a defensive stance, careful never to let his eyes leave his master for an instant, he struggled to concentrate on the matter at hand.  Already, however, his mind was wandering off to other things.

            The ride back to Earth on Altron had been long and uneventful.  Had it been on a commercial plane, Wufei would easily have fallen asleep.  Reentry went smoothly enough, as did the landing—not in Shanghai, but in another place.  Where he had left Nataku to sleep, after which he had to catch a series of odd rides to the outskirts of Shanghai, in what used to be China before the fall of Communism; now it was nothing more than a scattering of warring provinces.  

            _Nataku._

            He sincerely wished he didn't have to leave Altron where he had, but Master Zhen and his students—all situated in a single large compound at the heart of the province—had been against Mobile Suits before, during, and after the war.  And if Wufei had to sacrifice Nataku in order to gain some peace of mind, then so be it.

            He hastily shook away his thoughts as Master Zhen lunged forward, bringing his staff in a sideways slash meant to hit the bone of the pelvis, causing a brief tingling and paralysis.  Wufei, however, brought his own staff down, blocked, and countered with a stab to his master's side, followed by a series of violent thrusts, feints, blows, followed by more feints.  Master Zhen dodged or parried every single one of Wufei's attacks, and Wufei had to give the man credit—he was nearing his sixty-fifth year.

            The last time they had trained together, Master Zhen had been fifty-eight, Wufei only ten years old.

            He was going to show Sifu how much he had improved during the seven years of his absence.

            He feinted to the right.  Master Zhen went for it, bringing one end of his staff around to parry—with a triumphant cry, Wufei resteadied his weapon and brought it down for the finishing blow at his master's head—

            And hit nothing but air.

            He barely had to time to register the fact that he had missed before Master Zhen landed behind him—incredible, a mid-air somersault when most other men his age would be in wheelchairs or watching television in some nursing home—and swept his staff down and around, knocking Wufei off his feet and onto his back.  Before the seventeen-year-old had time to recover, Master Zhen brought his staff flying down toward his face.

            Wufei flinched.  Master Zhen's staff came to a sudden halt bare millimeters away from his throat—if the blow had been completed, his windpipe would easily have been crushed.

            For a moment neither man moved; Wufei was breathing hard, paralyzed with the shock of having been so easily defeated by a man almost four times his age.  Master Zhen's own face was expressionless.

            At long last, the older man shifted, brought his staff up, and offered Wufei a hand.  "You have improved much, Tudi," he said.

            Wufei rose to a sitting position but said and did nothing else.  His eyes were glued to the floor, and his entire body was shaking.  Defeated.  So easily…

            "Don't take it so hard, Tudi," Master Zhen said, "You still have much to learn."

            He set the staff vertically next to him, holding it in one hand, with his free hand still extended to his student.  It was then that Wufei leaped to his feet, clutching his staff, screaming in frustration, and attacked him with nothing short of a wild fury.

            _Defeated!_

            He was fast, but Master Zhen was faster.  Wufei spun, striking at his master with both ends of his staff, but the old man blocked every one of his attacks which only drove him to a greater fury.  His master feinted to the left; Wufei in his anger fell for it, and in the next instant Master Zhen's staff went straight into his stomach, completely knocking the air out of him.  Another blow to his shoulder and he was on the floor—a third followed to the side of his head, this one softer, leaving him dazed.

            His own staff was snatched from his hand, and Wufei looked up to see both staves crossed in an X shape, with his head right above the point of intersection.  A perfect opportunity to snap his neck in half.

            He closed his eyes and waited.

            Nothing happened.  Master Zhen stepped back, bringing both staves in a cross behind him: a neutral position.  "Why are you angry, Wufei?" he asked.

            Wufei looked up, and their eyes met.  "Why didn't you kill me, Zhen-sifu?"

            Master Zhen smiled at that.  "Would it make you feel better if I did?"

            "I don't know," Wufei said, looking down at the floor.  "I wouldn't have had to know."

            "Precisely, Tudi."

            He looked up, confused.  Master Zhen's smile broadened slightly, grew in warmth.  "Death brings nothing.  If you wish to improve your skills, to learn more, to know more…why then, you must be alive, of course." He tossed the two staves away.  They fell with a clatter to the floor and rolled to the end of the massive training chamber.  Master Zhen then once again offered his hand.  "Come with me, Chang-tudi," he said, "We will have something to eat and drink, and discuss what is clouding your mind."

            "My mind is clear, Sifu." Wufei's response was reflexive.

            "Nevertheless, come," Master Zhen said, taking Wufei's arm and pulling him with amazing strength to his feet.  "Our tea calms the spirit and soothes the soul.  We will talk, you and I." Wufei followed him into the building nearby.


	6. Reunion

**A/N: **At long last, our favorite Gundam pilots make an appearance! Obviously my favorite G-boy is Duo, which is why much of this is written in his POV.

            Once again, please read and review!

**COLONY B-885.  O737 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            Seventeen-year-old Duo Maxwell let out a yawn and stretched, leaning back comfortably in his chair.  He was apparently the first to arrive after receiving the urgent message from—of all people—the President of the United States.  It had given him the location of the military facility he was now in, the time of arrival, and a few details as to exactly why he had been summoned here.

            He didn't like what he had read.

            "Hey, you!" He stopped a technician walking past the open door.  "Any of the others come in yet?"

            The technician shook his head.  "No, sir," he said, "Three have reported in: Lieutenant Barton, Lieutenant Winner, and yourself.  The other two have yet to respond." Duo resisted the urge to vomit at the title; after the war, for their "service to the people," all five Gundam pilots had been promoted to a military rank of lieutenant.  Duo, of course, had buried his medal and badge in a hole at least fifteen feet deep somewhere in the Sahara Desert and had forgotten about it.

            "When'll Trowa and Quatre be arriving?" he asked.

            The technician shrugged.  "I don't know, sir."

            Duo rolled his eyes.  "Drop the 'sir,' please.  What about Deathscythe?"

            "Your Gundam's undergoing the last few finishing touch-ups," the technician said, "It'll be ready within the hour, at most.  Sir."

            Duo shoved him on his way before the "sir" could drive him to take drastic action.

            So, judging from what the man had told him, Trowa and Quatre were on their way here, probably riding Heavyarms and Sandrock.  As for Heero, Duo knew he would come, regardless of whether he responded to the message or not.

            That left only Wufei.

            He stretched again and rubbed his eyes.  Standing up, he walked over to the window and peered out at the military station surrounding him.  Ironic, this: peace had been established, and they still had bases like these bristling all over the place like so many bits of broken glass.

            The thought of peace automatically led him to the thought of war.  Inevitable, he knew, in the near future, but he hoped he wouldn't live to see it.  Sure, flying Deathscythe and lopping people's heads off with a giant glowing blade had been fun two years ago, but after the first few hundred destroyed Mobile Suits, fighting got kind of dull.

            He smiled at that, a bittersweet smile.  He hadn't used Deathscythe for anything other than transportation—and a couple of threats here and there—ever since the fall of the Libra and the White Fang.  Looked like the God of Death was losing his touch.

            But a new threat had just jolted the sleeping Shinigami out from the depths of Hell.

            Which brought him back to the matter at hand: that asteroid or meteor or whatever it was that was on a collision course with Earth.  If the chances of survival had not been so grim, he wouldn't have cared so much; who cares how much destruction the asteroid caused as long as some people survived? They were overpopulating the planet anyway.

            And then there was the problem with that weapon thing inside the asteroid.  Oh man, no prizes for guessing who had thought that one up.  The idea practically had "OZ" written all over it—or rather, a branch of OZ that Professor G had pointed out to him some time ago: MANTA-6.

            The door opened.  Duo turned, and then he grinned broadly.  "Ahoy, mate! Long time no see!" He clapped teenager who entered on the shoulder.

            Quatre Raberba Winner smiled at him.  "It's nice to see you again, Duo," he said.

            "So what's been up with you these past two years?" Duo asked, offering him a chair.

            Quatre took it.  "Not much," he said, "Most of my time's used up in trying to maintain all our mining satellites, alliances with other companies, stuff like that."

            "Pah," Duo said, "Borin' stuff.  Feel sorry for you, Quatre."

            "Nah, don't be," Quatre said, grinning.  "So, what about you? Still living with Hilde?"

            Duo shrugged.  "She went to stay with her family somewhere in Europe," he said, "So I've got the house all to myself now."

            "Must be pretty lonely, huh?"

            "Not at all," Duo replied with a wink.  "I got my ol' buddy Deathscythe to keep me company."

            Quatre laughed.  "Yeah, I suppose so," he said, and then his smile faded and his expression became serious.  "Speaking of which, Duo, you know about that asteroid, right?"

            Duo just shrugged.  "A big lump of crap, if you ask me," he said, and then he paused.  "Well…crap that'll kill us all, anyway."

            Quatre sighed.  "I'm worried, Duo," he said, "I mean, I know we were brought here so that we could blow up that weapon with our Gundams.  But…"

            "There's a problem with that." They both looked up at the familiar voice to see seventeen-year-old Trowa Barton standing just inside the doorway, arms crossed.  His face was serious as he said, "If we fire on the weapon, we could risk detonating it and taking out a few colonies in the explosion—not to mention ourselves."

            Inwardly, Duo sighed.  Two years apart, and the guy didn't show even the slightest bit of excitement upon seeing them again: no smile, no handshake, no "What's up?" Not to mention him being Mr. Pessimist and all.

            Outwardly, he said, "You never know until you try, right?"

            "Trowa has a point, Duo," Quatre said, "If we detonate that bomb—"

            "Which we won't," Duo interrupted.  "C'mon, guys, look on the bright side here.  We fly our Gundams up there, we fire a couple of good beams, slice and dice, and we're home free."

            "But it's not that simple," Quatre said, "I did some research on my way here.  The weapon has a failsafe system installed: we can probably get through the first few layers of rock easily enough, but the last layer above the alloy covering is riddled with sensors.  If any one of them is activated, a portion of the weapon will detonate—not the whole thing, but still enough to pretty much obliterate everything within a…let's say, ten-mile radius."

            Duo just shrugged.  "So we take care of all the outer layers, and then scoot out of there to let them finish it off with a giant laser cannon of some sort.  And we evacuate the colonies nearest to it, so no one gets hurt."

            Trowa shook his head.  "A laser cannon would probably detonate the entire weapon," he said, "and this close to Earth and the colonies, it would still have the desired effect."

            Duo heaved a giant sigh, and to Quatre he looked truly, genuinely annoyed for the first time.  "Look, my wonderfully supportive friends," he said, every single word dripping with sarcasm, "I know this may be the corniest thing you've ever heard, but we are mankind's last hope.  Therefore, I would greatly appreciate as much optimism as possible on your part."

            Quatre and Trowa only shook their heads.

            Duo was on the verge of killing them both when the door opened and the same technician Duo had questioned before stepped inside.  He gave a quick salute which none of them bothered to return and said, "Sirs, your presence is requested in the main control room.  If you would come with me?" 

            The three Gundam pilots exchanged brief glances before following the technician out of the room.


	7. Dance

**A/N: **Sorry about the late update; school's been bogging me down.  Man, sophomore year is the worst year. . But anyway, here's another brief scene with Wufei. You must be getting tired of those; sorry. ^_^U Anyway, I have heard all the arguments concerning whether or not Wufei's sword is really a katana.  Speaking from my own perspective, it definitely doesn't look like one.  Anyway, there's this great site I found that analyzes all the possibilities for Wufei's sword; please visit Wufei's Swords 101 at .  It's a very interesting site. ^_^

            Ok, that's about all.  Thanks to **Canyon A. Lynn** and **neko** for the reviews.

**SHANGHAI.  0445 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            Despite all the time changes as he traveled from place to place, Wufei always woke up at the same time and never went back to sleep.  That was precisely why he was standing outside at the moment, the first pink streaks of dawn just beginning to lace the sky, holding his katana in his hand.  On the majority of the colonies, he knew, it would be almost eight o'clock in the morning.

            Not that he particularly cared what was happening on the other side of the globe.

            He spun then, bringing his blade around in a wide, graceful arc, allowing himself some time to concentrate on the task at hand.  As he righted himself and launched into a series of practice drills, he felt a calm warmth slowly blossom, first in his mind and then spreading throughout his body, more secure and supportive than a mother's arms.  He clung to this feeling like nothing else.  He knew that it was quite possibly the only thread he was hanging by, the only lifeline he had to keep him from falling into that terrible dark abyss.

            The rosiness of the sky gradually gave way to sapphire blue as the sun began its journey across the sky.  Wufei danced with its playful rays, the sunlight glinting off both sides of his blade, glimmering like so many diamond shards in the middle of the compound's large courtyard.  He felt at peace whenever he practiced like this; it was as if a protective wall was being built around him with every step, every leap he took: a wall that was warm and comforting and would never stop protecting him.

            His mind wavered and, out of nowhere, an image of Altron flashed behind his closed eyes.  The wall shattered.

            Wufei felt pain jolt up his ankle as his other foot slammed into it in midair.  He stumbled and fell, his back hitting the dirt hard.  For a split second he lay there, stunned, before suddenly leaping quickly back to his feet, his eyes probing the area around the courtyard to make sure no one had seen him fall.

            He froze when he saw a single shadowed figure standing behind one of the compound's round, thick columns, watching him quietly.

            Presently the figure took three steady steps into the courtyard.  Immediately Wufei brought his katana into a neutral position behind his back and bowed low.  "Zhen-sifu." Inwardly, his mind was raging, demanding how he could have embarrassed himself so in front of his own master.

            Master Zhen nodded slightly.  "Chang-tudi.  You're up quite early."

            "As are you, Sifu."

            Master Zhen approached him.  When he was barely a foot away, he held out his hand.  Wufei obediently set his katana's handle into his master's hand.  The old man gripped the hilt firmly while running two fingers gently along the side of the blade, examining the glint of the metal, his expression contemplative.

            "Tudi, where did you get this?"

            Wufei blinked at the sudden question, but nevertheless replied, "A gift from my father before my clan was destroyed." He was surprised at the calmness of his voice.

            Master Zhen nodded and for the longest moment said nothing else as he stepped away from Wufei and began a series of slow, practiced moves, more to get an idea of its handling than to deal any damage.  "Are you aware, Wufei, of the different designs of a katana?"

            "Yes, Sifu."

            The old man stopped his movements, took the blade in both hands, and walked back up to him.  He tapped the hilt lightly.  "This is a strong blade, Tudi.  It is tip-heavy, therefore able to deal powerful blows and parry equally powerful ones.  The metal is thin and relatively light, but incredibly sturdy.  A good model, and a very strong blade, indeed."

            Wufei nodded, although he was confused at Master Zhen's words.  "Yes, Sifu."

            "However," Master Zhen said, "Having a tip-heavy blade puts a check on how fast you can move.  An opponent will have no trouble landing a series of light, quick blows."

            "Weak blows can't hurt me," Wufei said.

            Master Zhen only shrugged.  "Perhaps." He paused, then continued, "Such a mighty blade can only be wielded by an equally powerful hand." He looked up, peering deep into his pupil's black eyes.  "I am sure that many others consider you more than worthy of handling this blade.  But you, Chang-tudi…do you agree with them?"

            "I…" Wufei stopped.  One part of him wanted to say that he was strong, that he could handle the katana easily, that he could prove it to his master in a fight right now.  But another part whispered to him the truth, the truth about everything, about himself.  "I…"

            He took a deep breath and forced his hands to stop trembling.  "I don't know, Sifu." That was as close to the truth as he was willing to admit.

            Master Zhen nodded and held the sword out to him.  Wufei took it and slid it carefully back into its sheath, just as his master touched him on the arm, causing him to look up.  Master Zhen motioned to the beautiful garden just outside the compound, vegetation lit by the sun's rays.  "Come walk with me," he said, "And we will talk."


	8. Mission

**A/N: **I know, I know, I haven't updated for a while.  Sorry.  Oh, and I'm sorry too about the length of this chapter; I know that it is ridiculously short, but I try to group them by those bold headings you see (in this chapter's case, **COLONY B-885**…you get the point).  It makes it easier to divide the story up into major events.

           Yay, more Duo-ness! ^_^ Hehe, I love him so much.  But that's not the point.  Anyway, read and review please, as always.

           GIANT thanks to **Elvendestiny** for reviewing! (Link fanfic? WHERE???!!! **goes all rabid-fangirl-like**)

**COLONY B-885.  0750 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

           Duo had never expected security to be so tight, which was precisely why it had taken them almost fifteen minutes to get to the main control room.  The first thing he noticed when he, Quatre, Trowa and their guide walked into the room was a familiar figure leaning with his back against a wall, arms crossed, looking passively on.

           "Yo, Heero!" Duo cried, "How've you been?" He considered slapping him on the back but ultimately decided against it, knowing Heero would probably shoot him.  The seventeen-year-old boy made no response.

           Duo sighed.  "Here we go, Mr. Strong and Silent," he muttered.  "Between Trowa and Wufei, you three could be freakin' mimes or something." He paused.  "Speaking of which, where's Wufei?"

           "We've run into a slight problem in regards to him." They all turned to see Doctor J approaching, metal claw clicking almost viciously, smiling the smile that always made Duo shudder.  Behind him walked Professor G, Doctor S and Instructor H.  Duo noticed that Master O was missing as well.

           "What do you mean 'a slight problem?'" Quatre asked, coming up to stand beside Duo.

           Doctor S shrugged.  "Currently, we're having a bit of trouble finding him," he said, "and Altron has disappeared as well.  Not to worry, though, boys.  We've dispatched various search teams."

           "In the meantime," Professor G said, "We'll brief you quickly on your mission.  The repairs and touch-ups on your Gundams have been finished, and so it just remains for you to go up there and use them."

           "What about Wufei?" Trowa asked.

           Instructor H shrugged.  "If—_when­_ he's found, we'll tell him the basics and send him immediately on his way to join you.  Expect him sometime after you reach the asteroid."

           "All right then," Duo said, pulling out a chair and settling himself lazily into it.  "So, what're we gonna be doing?"

           "It's quite simple," Doctor J said, "You will go up there, blast away at the asteroid, and see how much of it you can safely destroy until our trump card arrives."

           "Trump card?" Heero repeated, speaking for the first time.

           Doctor J ignored him, on purpose, it seemed to Heero.  "Your job is to clear as much of the rock away, and to expose as much of the weapon as possible."

           "Wait a minute!" Quatre cried, "What about those sensors and the failsafe system?"

           Instructor H chuckled.  "Looks like you've been doing your homework, Quatre," he said, then continued, "As for the failsafe…we've upgraded your long-range weapons.  If you stay approximately five hundred meters from the asteroid, you should be only minimally damaged by the failsafe's detonation, if activated."

           "Oh, that certainly makes the job a whole lot easier," Duo muttered.

           "Wouldn't our short-range weapons work easier at cutting away the rock?" Trowa wondered aloud.

           "_We_ are not taking that risk," Doctor J said, "Although if _you_ feel inclined to, no one is stopping you.  Your short-range weapons have been upgraded as well."

           "Oh joy," Duo said, "A bigger scythe that I can't even use."

           _Now who's being pessimistic?_ Quatre thought.

           Heero pushed himself off of the wall and nodded at Doctor J.  "Mission acknowledged." He turned and walked out of the room.

           "Heero? Hey—what—where are you going?" Duo sputtered, rising to his feet.

           Doctor J smiled.  "He is not the perfect soldier for no reason." Duo rolled his eyes.


	9. Truth

**A/N: **Happy New Year, everyone! It's 2 0 0 4 !!!!! Isn't that great? Anyway, thought I'd update in celebration of the new year.  Haha, sorry I've been taking so long.  Not that anyone really cares since nobody really reads this story anyway, but that's all right.  Anyway, some more Wufei and a bit of MANTA-6.  Hope you like!

            Read and review please!

**SHANGHAI.  0450 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            As Master Zhen lowered himself slowly onto the bench, Wufei realized just how old the man had gotten.  He was graceful and incredibly agile in combat, but here, in the garden where they had walked in silence for several minutes, he was only a sixty-four-year-old man.

            They had not spoken a word since exiting the courtyard.  Now Wufei was tempted to break the silence.  "Why have you brought me here?" he asked, indicating the small Japanese bridge near them overlooking a small stream.

            Master Zhen only shrugged.  "Nature is beautiful now," he said, "I thought you would have liked to enjoy it with me."

            Wufei shook his head slowly.  "You should be training with me, Sifu," he said, "Not taking me out on nature walks."

            "Oh, but this _is_ training, Tudi," Master Zhen said.  He smiled at Wufei's confused look and continued, "Training for your mind."

            Wufei gritted his teeth angrily.  "I don't have time for this."

            Master Zhen only smiled.  "You have plenty of time, Chang-tudi." He turned, looking past Wufei at the bridge.  "We live in sad times now, Wufei," he said, "People die even as we speak."

            "But the war is over," Wufei said.

            "Perhaps." Master Zhen looked up at him.  "The fighting is done, yes, but the scars still remain.  You know this more than anyone, Tudi." When Wufei did not reply, he continued, "For you, the war is far from over."

            Almost without realizing it, Wufei came forward and took a seat beside his master.  "What are you saying, Sifu?"

            "You received a wound even before the war," Master Zhen said, "with Meiran's death.  It wounded your heart, and you are still healing."

            For the first time, Wufei was thoroughly startled.  "You knew Meiran?" he asked.

            Master Zhen smiled.  "Yes.  In fact, she was one of my brightest students, always eager to learn more.  Very aggressive in getting what she wanted.  She had an amazingly strong will.  It has been ten years since she trained with me as a student, and many years afterward she kept coming back for additional sessions." He turned and winked at Wufei's shocked look.  "Come now.  I may be an old man, but my memory isn't that bad."

            "She never told me she trained with you," Wufei said.

            "Oh, she didn't tell you a lot of things," Master Zhen said, and turned.  "I know what is paining you, Tudi.  Meiran was always a strong woman, and many who met her envied her strength.  I know that you are not an exception."

            Wufei said nothing, and Master Zhen continued, "However, you must know that she was not as strong as you think." When his pupil looked up, he smiled sadly and said, "Meiran…she hid much of herself from the world.  She had so many weakness that she could never admit to." He looked up.  "Do you know what her biggest weakness was?"

            Wufei shook his head.

            "It was you."

            He smiled when Wufei jumped.  "Yes," he said, "She came to me many times after your marriage.  Often she cried.  Do you know why?" Stunned, Wufei could not move, so Master Zhen continued, "She could not bear looking at you or standing next to you.  Do you know why?"

            Wufei looked down at the floor.  "To her, I was only a weak scholar."

            Master Zhen shook his head.  "Oh no, exactly the opposite," he said, "You bested her in everything, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never excel in anything you did.  She felt worthless compared to you.  She envied _your_ strength."

            Immediately Wufei shook his head.  "That's not possible."

            "Is it?" Master Zhen said.  "You've only been standing on one side of the river, Tudi.  Surely you can understand things from Meiran's point of view."

            "No," Wufei said.  "Meiran was strong.  I was nothing."

            Master Zhen turned.  "Do you really think—"

            "Zhen-sifu!" They both turned at the sound of approaching footsteps to see another student running toward them.  He came to a stop before the bench just as Wufei stood up, and bowed to them both.  "There's something you have to see," he said, "It's all over the news."

            Master Zhen cocked his head curiously.  "What is it, Yu-tudi?"

            "You'll have to see for yourself," the man said.  "Please come with me, Sifu.  And you too, Chang-san."

            Master Zhen nodded and slowly got to his feet with Wufei supporting him on one arm.  "Lead the way, Yu-tudi."

            "Yes, Sifu." Together they followed the young student out of the garden.

            Somewhere in the back of Wufei's mind, Meiran had just stopped laughing.

**MANTA-6 HQ SS.  0808 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            Commander Lane stepped briskly into the main control room.  He stood just inside the door as it slid shut behind him, hands clasped at his back, straightened in a solid parade rest.  "What's the problem?" he asked, his authoritative voice carrying strongly in the large room.

            His main computer operator turned, adjusting his headset as he said, "Sir, we've picked up four bogeys on long-range radar.  They have been identified as Gundam 01 through 04, and are approaching us at high velocity."

            "What about 05?" Lane asked.

            "Nothing on Gundam Altron, sir," the operator said.

            "Very good, Stern," he said.

            One of his subordinates and a good friend, Lieutenant Clark, turned.  "Should we fire on them, sir?" he asked, "At this distance, our long-range missiles should do the trick."

            Commander Lane shook his head.  "Let them come," he said, "Let them try to stop us.  They probably won't even be able to get through the first layer of rock.  Besides, if we feel they're getting to be dangerous, we can always activate the failsafe.  We've got everything covered." He nodded to the rest of the men.  "Proceed as planned," he said.

            "Yes, sir."

            As they all turned back to their work, Clark turned.  "Are you sure about this, John?" he asked.

            Lane turned.  "Of course.  Why wouldn't I be?"

            "You know that once we enter the Earth's atmosphere, it'll be too late to turn back," Clark said.  "No regrets from there.  We'll wipe ourselves out, as well as every living thing on the planet and the colonies."

            Lane sighed.  "You are perfectly right, Dan," he said, "We are all going to die.  But when you think about our mere reasons for struggling to survive, if you think about everything we've been through to ensure this plan goes through…it's worth dying for, isn't it?" 

            For a moment Clark said nothing.  And then he smiled and gave Lane a stiff military salute.  "It's always a pleasure working with you, Commander," he said.

            "No," Lane said, shaking his head.  "The pleasure is entirely mine."


	10. Encounter

**A/N: **Here's the G-Boys' first encounter with the weapon.  Can't tell you anything more for the sake of giving this chapter away.  As can be expected, although the story is told in third-person POV, I focus on Duo most often.  Heh ^_^U

            A giant thanks to **HeeroDuo4Eva** and **A FAN**.  It's not often I get two reviews for one chapter.  Haha, see how pathetic I am…**facefault**

            Update again soon!

**SPACE.  0809 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

Duo Maxwell blinked as something registered on Deathscythe Hell's long-range sensors.  Quickly his hands flicked over the control panel, and a computerized diagram appeared on the screen in front of him.  "It's huge…" he whispered.

            "I'm picking up the asteroid," Heero said, his voice eerily tinny through the comm system.  "Coordinates: point oh-seven-five north, eight-oh-three east."

            "Got it," Quatre said, "Wow, it's so big!"

            "Looks like it's picking up speed," Duo said, "Let's finish this quickly, people!"

            "Roger that." Duo thought Quatre sounded just a bit too cheerful.

            "On my count," Duo said, "Three…two…Heero! What're you doing?" Wing Zero's giant engines roared to life and the Gundam left their ranks, headed straight for the asteroid looming in the distance.

            "Heero!" Quatre cried.

            "He's too reckless," Trowa observed.

            "Tell me about it!" Duo spat, "Heero, get back here!" He grabbed the throttle and pushed it forward to the max.  Deathscythe shuddered and shot off after Wing Zero.

            "Duo! What are you doing?" Quatre cried.

            "You guys charge up your long-range weapons!" Duo yelled back, "I'm gonna go get our stray sheep back!"

            "Duo, no!" Quatre reached for the throttle on Sandrock, but Trowa's voice stopped him.

            "It's no use, Quatre," the seventeen-year-old said, "They fight their own way, and we must fight ours.  The best thing we can do for now is just as Duo said: charge up and get ready to fire."

            "But…" Quatre trailed off in mid-sentence and acquiesced.

            Meanwhile, as he chased Wing Zero in Deathscythe, Duo yelled into the comm, "Heero, don't make me blow your engines away! Come back! Do you wanna get yourself killed?"

            Heero, as he expected, made no reply.  Wing Zero picked up speed.

            "Damn it!" Duo cursed, Deathscythe responding in kind.  "Being a perfect soldier is _not_ the same as being a _dead_ soldier!"

            Suddenly Wing Zero came to a stop; Deathscythe nearly ran right into the other Gundam.  "Now what're you doing?" Duo demanded, "I sure hope you're not going to…" He gaped when he saw Wing Zero raising its twin buster rifle and aiming straight at the asteroid.

            "…blow it up yourself," Duo finished.  "_Heero, are you crazy?_"

            "We'll find out soon enough," Heero said, and fired.  The two giant yellow lasers ripped out of the gun and toward the asteroid, hitting it headon.  Instantly the rock was engulfed in light and flame.

            "Whoa!" Quatre cried, "I think it actually worked!" Trowa said nothing.

            "Heero, you will always find ways to amaze me," Duo muttered as the light started to fade away.  "Especially if…" He didn't bother to finish when the asteroid came back into view, hardly scathed, still just as big as it had been before.

            Heero gritted his teeth.  "I need more power," he said.

            Duo spun.  "We can provide that!" he said, "You just gotta work with me here!"

            Heero did not reply, although Wing Zero spun and headed back toward where Sandrock and Heavyarms waited.  Duo followed.  "About time," he muttered.

            "All right, people, on my count!" he cried as soon as he rejoined their ranks.  "Heero, you run away again and I'll kill you myself," he murmured, then said in a louder voice, "Three…two…one…_let 'er rip!_"

            He fired twin beams from his two mounted vulcans.  At the same time, Quatre launched two homing missiles from Sandrock and beams from his own vulcans; Trowa surrounded them in a volley of other missiles.  Heero let loose with another shot from his twin buster rifle.  The asteroid took the hits, every single one of them, erupted into flame…and kept on coming.

            "This is not working, people!" Duo yelled, and urged Deathscythe forward.

            "Wait—Duo, come back!" Quatre cried.  _Does he copy everything Heero does?_

            Activating the double beams on his scythe—which, as predicted, was bigger but otherwise not any better—Duo launched himself straight at the asteroid.  _You want something done right, you gotta do it yourself!_

            He brought the scythe down in a powerful cutting slash.  The blade hit the rock, embedded itself into it, and did nothing else.

            _Uh oh._

            He tried to pull the scythe out, but the blade was too far in and wouldn't budge.  Deathscythe was stuck to the asteroid like a bug to fly paper.

            The rock was starting to overheat; if the temperature got high enough, his scythe—and his Gundam—would begin to melt.  He could simply let go of the handle, but poor Professor G would probably kill him for leaving the scythe there, so…

            "Um, guys, a little help here?" he said, not without embarrassment in his voice.

            Wing Zero was the first to come up, and it pulled out one of its two beam sabers.  "Oh no, wait a minute!" Duo cried, "If you slice my scythe in half—"

            Heero brought the saber down, and it slashed through the rock surrounding Duo's blade.  Quatre and Trowa caught up just as Duo pulled his scythe out.  "Don't be reckless," Trowa said.

            "That wasn't what I had in mind!" Duo yelled back.

            "How come we can't break through the rock?" Quatre wondered aloud.

            "I don't know," Duo said, "Maybe it's a special mineral or something."

            "Well, find a way to get through it!" Quatre cried.

            "What do you think I've been trying to do?" Duo shouted.  He turned to the asteroid and kicked it in frustration with Deathscythe's giant alloy boot.  "Stupid rock!"

            Just then, the screen in front of him blanked out for a few seconds in static, and eventually Doctor J's face came up.  "Oh, hi there, doc," Duo said, "We're having a bit of a problem up here…"

            "As are we," Doctor J said.  "Wufei has not been found."

            Duo just shrugged.  "He wouldn't have been much help anyway."

            "On the contrary," Doctor J said, "Wufei was our trump card.  Without him, there has been a change of plans."

            "Trump card—what do you mean?" Quatre asked.

            "Never mind that," Doctor J said.  "Your weapons are apparently inefficient against the asteroid's composition.  Therefore, you cannot destroy it."

            "No shit," Duo muttered.

            "However," Doctor J continued, ignoring his statement, "There is a way you can prevent the asteroid from hitting the earth completely."

            "What's that?" Trowa asked.

            Heero nodded almost immediately.  "Mission acknowledged," he said.  The screen went blank.

            "Wait a minute—what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Duo demanded.

            Heero did not reply.  Instead, he put Wing Zero into reverse, pulling it back several dozen meters.  "Heero…?" Duo said.

            Wing Zero's engines roared.  The entire Gundam shook as it surged forward, straight toward the asteroid.  "Hang on a second—Heero, what're you doing?" Quatre cried.

            Trowa nodded, understanding.  "He's ramming it," he said.

            Sure enough, Wing Zero hit the asteroid headon with its shoulder, then pushed its entire body against the rock, engines roaring at full power.

            Duo smiled.  "All right, if that's the way you want it!" He did the same thing with Deathscythe, feeling his Gundam shudder as it slammed into the rock.  He transferred all available power to the left engine.  Sandrock and Heavyarms soon joined in.

            Duo felt Deathscythe give what sounded like a groan; it was the pressure of its alloy insides pushed to the limits.  "C'mon, Deathscythe, old pal," he said, "Don't fall apart on me…"

            "Do you think we have enough strength like this?" Quatre asked, somehow managing to feed even more power into Sandrock's giant engines.

            "Guess we'll find out," Trowa said.

            Heero said nothing.


	11. Discovery

**A/N: **Yay, another chapter! This one actually has several sections to it, but since each one's pretty short, the total length of the chapter isn't that formidable.  

           Thanks to **HeeroDuo4eva, SageTwilight **(like the name!), **haz2080** (and thanks for reviewing 36H too!), **ForgottenHope **and **Summing up the Stars**.  I've never gotten so many reviews for one chapter before. ^^;; Hope you guys are liking this story!

**MANTA-6 HQ SS.  0815 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

           Commander Lane still stood on the bridge of the control room, watching as his people worked to keep the station stable.  He could feel the vibrations under his feet, in the walls around him, and he smiled.  He had to give the Gundams credit for their strategy, futile as it was.

           There was a definite advantage to having your headquarters stationed in the heart of your own weapon, and that was that you were always there in the front lines when the bullets started to fly.

           "Engine 3B overheating," one of the technicians said.

           "Electrical shortage in Sector 7-2C," came another voice.

           "Keep it steady, gentlemen," Commander Lane said, "They won't be doing any serious damage." He nodded to the two technicians who had spoken.  "Reroute power from 3B to 7-2C's generators," he said, "We won't let any excess energy go to waste."

           "Yes, sir.  Rerouting in progress."

           Lane smiled.  He loved working with these people; they were priceless.  They followed orders to the letter, without asking questions or posing the slightest doubt; they had incredible faith in his ability to lead.  Furthermore, unlike so many unsuccessful soldiers who had fought and been killed during the war, these people were not afraid to die in the name of their cause.

           He was the same way.  Lane had once been an OZ soldier, serving under Treize Khushrenada himself.  When the Gundams had descended like so many large, annoying mosquitoes, the Federation and, eventually, OZ had crumbled into dust.  Lane, who had known nothing of life except what it was to be soldier, was left with nothing except a single thread to hang onto after the war and the collapse of his ideals.  This thread was MANTA-6.

           Lane couldn't quite remember when he had ascended to being the organization's leader, but it had happened at some time in his life, and he was glad for it.  He did not know for certain whether the old leader of MANTA-6, a small, backbone-less old man afraid of his own shadow, would have had the guts to attempt something like this.  The thought of it made him smile.

           The room trembled under another Gundam assault.  "Conditions still stable?" he called over the humming of the massive engines.

           "Yes, sir."

           "Very good.  We're doing great.  Don't worry; the Gundams won't be able to do anything.  The plan will carry through." He turned and walked out of the room.

**SHANGHAI.  0510 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

           Master Zhen slowly shook his head.  "What do they intend to do about this?" he asked, indicating the satellite images of the asteroid playing on the screen.

           "For now, officials don't have anything planned," Yu Xingnan, the student who had brought them in from the garden, said.  "They have, however, employed the Gundams in an attempt to destroy the asteroid." As he said this, his eyes involuntarily sought out Wufei's.

           Master Zhen was apparently thinking the same thing, because he addressed his pupil next.  "Do they know you are here, Chang-tudi?" he asked.

           Wufei shifted uncomfortably and shook his head.

           Master Zhen tapped the screen lightly with his cane.  "Then will you go and help them against this thing?"

           Wufei looked up.  "I…I don't want them to find me, Sifu."

           To his surprise, Master Zhen only shrugged.  "As you wish," he said.  "We will say nothing about your presence here, if that is what you desire."

           "Zhen-sifu!" Xingnan cried, "What about the asteroid? They need Chang-san up there!"

           Wufei smiled bitterly at that.  "No, they don't," he said.  "I'm useless to them.  Please excuse me, Zhen-sifu, Yu-san." He bowed and left the room.

           Xingnan moved as if to follow him, but Master Zhen shook his head.  "Let him go, Tudi," he said, "We cannot force him to go."

           "But the asteroid—"

           "It is up to the other pilots, then," Master Zhen said.  "Wufei has come here not only to train, but for his own spiritual healing.  I cannot let him go until he is ready."

           "Yes, Sifu."

**TIKAL.GUATEMALA.  0820 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

           The massive scanners mounted on the hovercraft hummed and vibrated as they worked, penetrating the dense jungles for any metallic signs.  Aboard the ship, Sally Po gripped the controls tightly to keep the fragile craft from rocking and tipping over.

           She heard footsteps behind her, turned, and smiled.  "Noin."

           Lucrezia Noin nodded as she took the co-pilot's seat.  "Exactly what convinced you to search for Altron here?" she asked.

           Sally shrugged.  "There've been stories among the natives," she said, "Those who are still considered natives, anyway.  Just yesterday, they said, a giant human-like monster fell out of the sky and into the jungle.  More…_updated_ sources said it was a Mobile Suit of some sort, although they could not confirm whether or not it was a Gundam."

           "Sounds like a pretty good start," Noin said.

           Sally nodded.  "There's just one problem," she said, "Ever since those environmentalists convinced the government to completely halt deforestation, the jungle has grown rapidly.  It's hard to move through this stuff."

           "Well, you have to admit it was a good thing they did it," Noin said, "The rainforest has many valuable resources, you know."

           "That's true," Sally said, "I just wish we didn't have such a giant area to cover."

           "If you're suggesting blasting away a few acres…"

           "Oh no, not at all," Sally said.  "Not blasting.  Burning."

           "Sally!"

           "Just kidding." They continued on.

           "It's nice getting to work with you again," Noin said after a few moments of silence.  "The war seems like it was so long ago…"

           "I know," Sally said quietly.  "What have you been doing these past couple of years?"

           Noin shrugged.  "Nothing, really," she said, "I rented a house on one of the colonies, and I've been keeping a low profile ever since.  It's a bit hard, though, when everyone knows your face."

           Sally shrugged.  "That's life," she said, "Being one of the war heroes and all." She paused.  "Of course, the real heroes would be the Gundam pilots."

           "It's ironic that much of the world doesn't seem to think so," Noin said.

           The other woman shook her head.  "These days, anything that has to do with war or fighting is despised," she said, "The Gundams included.  It's very sad, actually: the pilots risked their lives for both the colonies and Earth, and they got only resentment in return.  I can understand the boys' frustration over that."

           Noin nodded.  "Now though, people should be giving the Gundams their full support," she said, "Seeing as they're the only hope Earth and the colonies have for survival against that asteroid."

           Sally sighed.  "We have less than a week before that asteroid hits, Noin," she said.  "What if the Gundams are unable to stop it?"

           "Then we won't be around to wonder why," Noin said.

           "Any regrets?" Sally asked, only half-joking.

           Noin heaved a sigh and looked off into the jungle, but said nothing.  Sally understood instantly.  "Zechs," she whispered.

           Noin turned, and then she forced a smile.  "Yeah, I guess," she said.  "Even after that piece of the Libra was destroyed…I kept believing he was still alive.  I still do, in fact.  I only regret that I wasn't able to find him, and be by his side again…"

           "In heaven, perhaps you will be," Sally said.

           Noin smiled.  "Or hell."

           Sally grinned and was about to reply when something beeped on the control panel before her.  Instantly her face took on a solemn expression as she began pressing buttons and flipping switches.

           "What's going on?" Noin asked, leaning forward in the co-pilot's chair.

           "The sensors've picked something up," Sally said.  "The signature is very weak; it could be nothing more than a piece of shrapnel or something, but it's worth checking out." Pressing another button revealed the origin of the signal.  "It's coming from the Mayan temple over there," Sally said.

           "Did the Mayans use metal to build their temples?" Noin asked.  Such history was far before her time, back in the AD days.

           "I don't think so," Sally said, "Besides, I'm registering alloy, not metal."

           "Do you think Altron's in there, then?" Noin asked.

           "Possibly."

           Noin frowned.  "Why in the world would Wufei put his Gundam here?"

           Sally shrugged.  "Guess we'll find out." They broke through the last line of thick trees and into a large clearing.

           "Whoa," Noin said as they both looked up…and up, and up.  The temple was evidently old, but somehow it had withstood the endless winds of time.  It was roughly triangular in shape, with giant stone steps leading up to a small square shrine at the very top.  The stones varied in color from deep black to light tan, and the sun's rays hit them at such an angle that they seemed to shimmer in the light.  It was nothing short of amazing.

           Sally brought the hovercraft carefully down into the clearing.  Noin was the first to jump out, pulling a flashlight from her pack as she did so.  Sally soon joined her.

           "It's so big," Noin murmured.

           "C'mon," Sally said, pulling her lightly toward the temple, "Don't forget what we came here for."

           They began ascending the steps.  To Noin it seemed endless; they walked for centuries, milleniums.  The stone beneath their feet never ended; Noin had to constantly look up and focus on the shrine at the top to remind herself that there was an end to this.

           At long last, though, only a few feet of smooth tiled stone floor separated her from the shrine's entrance.  Sally nodded to her, and Noin clicked on her flashlight and stepped into the darkness.

           The shrine was bigger than it looked; the room was spacious and the walls towered far above her head; it had to be an optical illusion of some sort.  The beam from her flashlight danced along the walls, where she could see carvings and inscriptions of some sort that she did not recognize.

           And then her beam illuminated something else.  Noin and Sally exchanged triumphant looks.  Sally took her radio off of her belt.  "Scout One to Eagle Base," she said, "We have located Altron."


	12. Return

**A/N: **Wow, it's been a while.  Sorry, I've been keeping very busy with homework and stuff.  But anyway, here's another chapter of NT! ^_^ This chapter doesn't have anything really special; it's kinda a transition chapter between what has already happened and what is about to come.  Hope you weren't expecting too much!

            Thanks to **sickchild101 **(you people…_***), **Povlyn, Race Ulfson** and **HeeroDuo4eva** for reviewing!

**SPACE.  0823 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            Duo had gone to every source of power for Deathscythe's engines, short of unstrapping himself and pushing against the right wall of the cockpit.  Deathscythe's engines were at maximum power, working so hard that the Gundam was literally vibrating so that Duo could hardly grip his controls.  "This thing isn't budging, people!" he yelled.

            "There's no other way!" Quatre cried, gritting his teeth.  "If we don't somehow push this thing off course, it'll hit Earth headon!"

            "Can we blast it from here?" Trowa asked.

            "At this range, we'll blow ourselves up and we won't be of use to anybody anymore," Heero said.

            "Good point." Duo closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his concentration jarred.  Maybe he should just turn back, go to the nearest guy with some sort of power, and demand that they nuke it.  They had all sorts of weapons like those these days; a couple of well-aimed nuclear explosives ought to do the trick.

            That is, if they didn't automatically detonate the weapon and set Earth's atmosphere on fire.

            A voice came over their comm system; Duo immediately recognized Doctor J.  "Another change of plans, boys," the scientist said, his voice strangely gravelly.  "Altron has been found."

            Duo cheered.  "So the trump card's here!" he cried.

            "Not entirely," Doctor J said, sobering Duo somewhat.  "Wufei is still missing, but his Gundam is here.  Report back to B-885 immediately for a new mission."

            "But what about the asteroid?" Quatre cried.

            "The asteroid will hit Earth in a week," Doctor J said.  "I doubt your briefing will take that long."

            "Roger," Heero said, detached himself from the asteroid, and shot back toward Earth.

            "Oh no, you don't," Duo muttered, slamming his throttle forward.  "No one outruns Deathscythe!" His Gundam shuddered and zoomed off after Wing Zero.

            "What is up with those two?" Quatre wondered, slowly pushing off of the asteroid, steadying his engines as Trowa did the same.

            "Whatever it is, best not to interfere," Trowa said, and together they followed Duo and Heero.

**MANTA-6 HQ SS.  0823 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            "Sir!" Lane, now seated in a chair above the bridge of the control room, looked up at the sound of his chief technician's voice.  "The Gundams have terminated their assault and are retreating, sir."

            He blinked.  "What?" Rising out of his chair, he walked forward and peered carefully at the computer console, where he could clearly see four tiny points of light retreating quickly into the darkness, headed back toward Earth.  "What are they doing?"

            "We intercepted a transmission from Colony B-885," the technician said.  "Apparently a search team has located Gundam 05, and they are headed back to be debriefed as to its new weapon."

            Lane shook his head.  "What about the pilot?" he asked, "Chang Wufei? Have they found him?"

            Lieutenant Clark, standing at his shoulder, shook his head.  "He is still reported missing," he said.

            "Very good," Lane said, and straightened.  "Not to worry, gentlemen, 05 is no threat to us.  It may have that new weapon the scientist built, but he's history.  Dead men tell no tales." He nodded.  "The weapon won't harm us; under a possible attack, activate the primary failsafe."

            "Will do, sir."


	13. Debriefing

**A/N: **Wow, I think it's actually been less than a month since I updated. That's improvement!

Yet another sorta "transition chapter." The next chapter'll be really exciting tho, so bear with me!

Thanks to **HeeroDuo4eva **and **Pixie Smith **(no pairings, really. There's a part coming up that looks like 2x5, but it's not.)

**COLONY B-885. 0844 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST. AC 197.**

Sally Po and Lucrezia Noin turned as the main door to the conference room slid open and the four Gundam pilots stepped inside. "Wow, they shot up like weeds," Sally commented.

"Quatre's still shorter than the others," Noin observed.

"Some things never change." Sally motioned to the four boys to have a seat at the table in front of the large projector screen beside which she stood. The four Gundam scientists were seated at a separate table. "Welcome back, Gundam pilots," Sally said, pulling out a pointer. "I'll be leading the briefing today."

They said nothing, only watched her intently. She smiled, nodded, and turned to face the screen, motioning to Noin as she did so. The young dark-haired woman responded by pressing a button on the slide projector remote: instantly a detailed diagram of Gundam Altron appeared on the white screen.

"This is the upgraded version of Gundam 05, the Altron," Sally said, "Currently, from our technicians' reports, it is in excellent condition, batteries newly recharged, surface refinished and polished down, damage repaired, Gundanium alloy reinforced. We have reason to believe that it has just recently been in a Mobile Suit repair center of some sort. We suspect Master O's laboratory somewhere in the L5 colony cluster, because of this."

She nodded to Noin, who switched the image, this time to Altron's massive upper torso and head, where the four pilots could easily distinguish what looked like two laser projectors perched neatly on its shoulders. "This is a new weapon recently installed on Altron," she said, "At first, we had assumed it was still being developed back in Master O's laboratory, and so we sent a scout team to go check it out. They found the lab, all right: it was blown to pieces. Master O's charred remains were found in the rubble."

Quatre flinched just as Duo asked, "Who did it?"

Sally smiled. "I'm sure you already know."

"MANTA-6," Heero said, "Only they knew about the weapon. And only they could have had the resources to launch the asteroid."

Sally nodded. "They're our primary suspect, yes," she said, "And currently our top intelligence agencies are gathering as much information as possible as to the location of their headquarters and their members." She turned back to the screen. "But back to this. The scientists here" —she nodded to Doctor J, Professor G, Doctor S and Instructor H seated at the nearby table— "have reason to believe that Master O did not in fact have the weapon in his laboratory; the recovery team found no traces of weapons development equipment of any kind. Therefore, we suspected that he had already installed it on Altron. It turns out we were right." She pointed out both lasers on the Gundam's shoulders. "This is a powerful weapon," she said, "The first of its kind. It is a surface-penetrating laser: that is, it can pass easily through a designated depth of material without harming it, and strike something embedded deep inside something else: for example, the explosive inside the asteroid."

Trowa nodded. "So you're saying we can melt down the weapon from inside the asteroid?" he asked.

Quatre grinned happily. "After the weapon's gone, we can fire a laser beam at the asteroid and destroy it," he said, "The pieces will burn up upon reentry."

Sally nodded. "That is the plan," she said, "But there is one problem."

"What's that?" Duo asked.

Sally's gaze was intense. "Wufei is still missing."

"He is the one who has the most experience with this thing," Noin said, "Without him, we can only guess as to how to operate the weapon."

"That's no problem," Duo said, "I'll fly it."

Everyone blinked and turned to stare at him. He began to feel uncomfortable under their gazes, shifting in his seat and saying, "Look, people, all Gundams are essentially made the same. Besides, Deathscythe and Shenlong were upgraded at the same time, so they'd have even more similarities. As for the weapon's operation, I'm a quick learner. I'll just need a quick crash course from your technicians."

Sally frowned and turned to the scientists. "What do you think, doctors?"

Professor G grinned. "Without Wufei," he said, "Duo's our best bet. I say we let him fly it and see how he does."

Doctor J nodded. "He's right about the similarities between Deathscythe Hell and Altron," he said. "It should be fairly easy for Duo to handle. And the new weapon shouldn't be that hard to operate, if I know Master O well enough."

Sally nodded to them, turned to Duo, and smiled. "All right then," she said, "You will set off tomorrow morning at exactly 0700 hours. Heero, Trowa and Quatre will accompany you so you don't get bored by yourself in space. Good luck to all of you." The images faded away from the screen as Sally folded up her pointer and barked, "Dismissed!"

The four Gundam pilots got up from their seats and exited the room in single file, followed closely by the four scientists. Sally turned to Noin and grinned. "I've always wanted to say that."


	14. Scream

**A/N: **School's out! Dunno if that means I'll update more frequently; prolly a little bit, like maybe once every three-four weeks instead of once a month. U

More Wufei-ness. Yay! =P

Thanks once again to my most faithful reviewer, **HeeroDuo4eva.**

**SHANGHAI. O603 HOURS.**

**7 AUGUST. AC 197.**

Almost without realizing it, Wufei found himself back inside the garden. He had to admit that it was beautiful this time of year: the grass was green, the flowers lush and in full bloom. As he crossed over the Japanese bridge, he paused briefly to lean over and stare at his reflection in the clear water of the brook. He saw there, staring passively back at him, a seventeen-year-old Chinese boy, pure black hair pulled back into a short ponytail, intense black eyes that were full of hurt, features that were as hard and unreadable as stone.

He saw a monster.

Murderer. Child-killer. Terrorist. The list went on and on in his mind, every single word standing out as if etched into his brain with a laser, glowing with amazing clarity. They burned with a pain beyond his imagination.

And then the image in the water shimmered and began to take on a different form. He stared at it, unable to speak, as his own face warped and changed, until…

Until she was looking up at him, smiling, almost content as she stared at him…

_Meiran…_

He sprang back from the bridge. His sudden movement caused the image of his wife—if that had indeed been what it was—to shatter but he didn't care; already he was running, scaling the bridge, feet pounding as he flew down the stone path and toward the nearest building. Upon reaching it, he barrelled through the door, losing his balance and falling to his hands and knees onto the cold stone floor.

There were two of Master Zhen's students inside, training with double-edged blades. They ceased their routine and turned upon his entrance, and even as they rushed toward him to provide aid, Wufei clutched his head in his hands and let out a window-shattering scream.

Master Zhen and Xingnan both turned as the echoes reached them where they were still sitting in front of the television screen. Master Zhen frowned at the sound, full of pain and grief.

Xingnan was on his feet in an instant. "Chang-san!" He ran out the door, with Master Zhen following, moving amazingly fast for a man of his age.

They reached the building at the end of the garden in only a few moments. The doors were still open where Wufei had left them, and several students had gathered, drawn by the commotion. As Master Zhen approached, he saw the two students who had been training inside trying to pull the distraught man to his feet. Wufei, however, refused their attempts at consolation. He was curled up on the floor, hands still clutching his head, his entire body trembling. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was murmuring something that Master Zhen could not hear from his distance.

Slowly the old man approached. "He rushed in here and collapsed, Sifu," one of the students said, "We've been trying to talk to him, but it's like he can't hear us."

Master Zhen nodded. "You are right," he said, "He cannot." Coming to a stop beside his fallen student, he knelt down on one knee, listening carefully to what Wufei was whispering. He recognized it almost immediately: a Mandarin prayer chant, used to drive away evil spirits.

He reached out then and gently shook Wufei's shoulder. "Chang-tudi," he said. Wufei made no response; only continued to whisper. Master Zhen shook him a bit harder. "Wufei," he said in a firmer voice. There was still no reply.

Master Zhen straightened then. "It has become serious," he said. For a moment he only stood there, watching his student quietly as the rest of his pupils did the same. All of a sudden, with a move as quick as lightning, he lifted his cane, spun it once, and brought it down, connecting it perfectly with the back of Wufei's neck. The boy shuddered once, fell forward, and lay still. The room fell silent.

Master Zhen turned to the two students who had been originally assisting Wufei. "Take him to the ward," he said, "And make sure he is comfortable." They bowed, a little shaken by his sudden move, and obeyed.


	15. Disaster

**A/N: **Wow, an update in gasp LESS THAN ONE MONTH??? Yes, it's true. Wow.

Anyway, some yummy Duo-ness. I love Duo so much. Anyway…you have no idea how hard it was for me to write the ending for this chapter. But in case I give anything away, I'm not gonna say anything. You'll just have to read and find out.

Oh, and please excuse my rather twisted sense of humor that can be sensed in this chapter. ;;

Update again ASAP.

Thanks to **Zmajgoddess, HeeroDuo4eva, **and **Feikins** for reviewing.

**SPACE. 0727 HOURS.**

**8 AUGUST. AC 197.**

Duo Maxwell yawned and stretched inside Altron's spacious cockpit. As he leaned back in the pilot's seat and reached up his arms to the ceiling, stretching his legs as far as they would go, he couldn't help remarking, "Sure is big in here." No one else made a reply. Looking out the window, he could see Wing Zero, Sandrock and Heavyarms to his right and left, apparently too absorbed in the approaching asteroid to answer him.

He shrugged and leaned forward. "Wonder what this button does…" He pressed it. In an instant a blast of cold wind hit him full on in the face. "Whoa!" He whistled, turning down the knob beside the button. "Built-in AC systems. Damn it, Wufei, why didn't _I_ get one?"

Glancing around, he spotted a rather large red button embedded underneath a small glass panel. He flipped up the panel, but could not read what was printed under the button: it was in Chinese.

He shrugged. "If this thing has AC, maybe it'll have cruise control," he said, and pressed the button.

"Backup homing missile ready," a sexy, throaty female voice said, "Targeting…acquired." Duo might have laughed at Wufei's apparent preferences if he hand't looked up to see a blinking red targeting block settle right on Sandrock.

"Oh, shit!" Quickly his fingers flew to the panel and pressed the first button he could find.

"Aborted," the voice said, and the targeting block disappeared.

Seconds later, Quatre's voice came over the intercom. "What happened, Duo?" he demanded, "I had a lock-on from you a while ago, but it disappeared."

"Uh, yeah," Duo said, "Let's just call it technical difficulty…"

"No more random button-pressing from now on," Heero said.

"Yeah, I heard you," Duo said, settling back into his seat, wiping drops of sweat from his brow. This was going to be difficult.

All of a sudden, he was very glad for the AC blasting in his face.

"The target should be in range of your weapon soon." Trowa's voice was steady and calm over the comm system.

As if on cue, Altron's short-range sensors came to life, flashing red on the panels. The programmed female voice came back on: "Target is in range and locked. SPL-1 and -2 ready for activation." Duo shook his head. Damn, even saying something boring like that, the voice made him want to hit the sheets with its owner. How did Wufei ever manage to fly undistracted by this?

"Duo?" Quatre's voice interrupted his mildly erotic thoughts. "Do you have a lock? You're sitting there like a sack of potatoes."

"Sometime this week would be good," Trowa pointed out.

"Just do it!" Heero snapped, irritated no doubt by the fact that Duo was the star of the operation and not himself.

Duo rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mother," he said. On a sudden impulse, he leaned forward, switched on the visual, and gave Heero the finger. Before the other pilot could retaliate, he cut all communications and picked up a single sheet of paper printout—amazing they still used it—that had been wedged in between the sensor panel and the main steering controls. "Okay, let's see here…" His eyes flicked rapidly over the paper. Presently he reached out toward the weapons control panel and began flicking switches and pressing buttons, paying careful attention to the printed instructions.

"Targeting acquired," the voice said, ringing eerily in Altron's cockpit. "SPL-1 activated." He heard a soft, distant hum as the first of Altron's surface-penetrating lasers came to life.

In the next second, there came a fuzzy burst over the comm system and a voice that was distinctly Trowa's gave a yell of pain. Duo's head snapped up at the sound, and he swore something that would have shamed the meanest man alive. He had been so engrossed in the instructions that he had not even bothered to check what exactly had been Altron's target: it was Heavyarms.

The voice came on again: "SPL-2 activa—"

Duo slammed a fist down on a large button. "Aborted," the voice said, and the humming ceased.

Reaching up, he readjusted the frequency of the comm system just in time to catch Quatre's cries: "Trowa, are you all right? Trowa! Talk to me!"

"Trowa!" Heero yelled, "Can you hear me?"

A low cough sounded, and then Trowa's voice came on. "I think I'm okay," he said, "A couple of burns, maybe, and Heavyarms's cockpit is overheating."

Duo forced an embarrassed laugh. "Uh, I guess it works," he said.

He could almost see the sarcasm in Trowa's voice, it was so thick. "Splendid."

"Sorry about that," Duo said.

"I'm retreating back to a safe distance," Trowa said, "Some of Heavyarms's internal circuitry is burned out; I won't be able to operate effectively in an emergency."

"Yeah, you do that," Duo said, "And Quatre and Heero? Why don't you guys follow him and, uh, stay out of range?"

"That's very good advice, Duo," Quatre said. His voice was tight.

Heero's tone was low and dangerous as he said, "Don't screw up." Wing Zero and Sandrock both pulled back, following Heavyarms.

Turning back, Duo faced the asteroid, now filling all of his viewscreens, took a deep breath, and wiped the sweat from his brow. All right, if this mission didn't kill him, then Heero, Trowa and Quatre definitely would. What was there to lose?

"Targeting acquired," the female voice said, and this time Duo made sure it was the asteroid that Altron was aiming at.

"All right," Duo said, taking a deep breath to calm himself and turning the AC up. "We've got a giant space rock, a weapon I've never tried out before, four measly Gundams…" He shook his head. "And a partridge in a pear tree."

"Duo, for Chrissake, are you asleep or something?" Quatre yelled over the comm system, "Do it already!"

Duo shook his head violently to clear it and blinked rapidly several times. His hand hovered over the double-activation button. Now was no time to consider all the what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. Besides, when was Duo Maxwell ever afraid?

He smiled. "No guts, no glory!" he yelled, "The God of Death is back!" He slammed his fist down.

Everything flew by incredibly fast from there. He heard the voice say, "SPL-1 and SPL-2 activated." He felt and heard the hum of the weapons coming to life. He saw the heart of the asteroid begin to glow from a soft pink to a bright red—and then the red erupted into light, a blinding white light that shot straight at him, engulfing him in brilliance.

_Shit—!_

It was the last thing he saw before pain tore through his body and he lost consciousness.


	16. Revelation

**A/N: **Haha, sorry I haven't been updating. I have more time now that it's summer; it's just that I keep forgetting.

Wufei has a revelation in this chapter. As you can probably tell, we're nearing the end.

Thanks to **Casey, Feikins, HeeroDuo4eva **(I never even noticed this story was a year old o0), **Canyon A. Lynn, ZmajGoddess** and an apparently anonymous reader for their reviews.

**MANTA-6 HQ SS. 0731 HOURS.**

**8 AUGUST. AC 197.**

"Primary failsafe activated," the technician said, fingers flying over the controls. "Secondary failsafe is now online and ready for activation on command."

Commander Lane smiled as he watched the single large image on the computer screen, that of a badly damaged and smoking Gundam Altron flying backward, away from the asteroid. "Intercept transmissions between the Gundams," he said.

"Yes, sir." The technician pressed a button and adjusted a knob to the right frequency.

"—uo! Can you hear me? Duo! Are you all right?" It sounded like a young boy, slightly deeper than when Lane had last heard Quatre Raberba Winner's voice.

"Duo, answer me!" This came from Gundam 01.

"We have to bring him back and get him to a hospital." This voice was low and calm: definitely that of Trowa Barton. "He could be seriously injured."

"Flank me," came Heero Yuy's voice, and Wing Zero surged up to Altron, stopping its backward propulsion. Lane watched passively as Wing Zero attached a tow cable to Altron's massive shoulders, converted to bird mode, and soared off toward Earth, Sandrock and Heavyarms tailing closely.

"So much for that plan," Lane said. So they had not located Wufei. That was good in a sense—it meant they were handicapped. But Lane knew that, had it been Wufei up there in Altron instead of that idiot Duo Maxwell, it would not have made much of a difference. And he had a feeling Wufei knew this.

Smart boy, to run and hide when the real fighting began. A coward, but smart.

**SHANGHAI. 0856 HOURS.**

**8 AUGUST. AC 197.**

Before he even came fully awake, Wufei was aware of the heat: a muggy, sweltering feeling that intruded on the peace of his sleep. He shifted slightly and opened his eyes, realizing several things at once: he was drenched in sweat, as were the bedsheets. He was in a small room with all the windows and the single door closed. Two candles had been lit and placed on a small table at his bedside, and in between them was set a shallow dish filled with water: that was why it was so incredibly humid in here. Wufei recognized the method as an easy way to bring someone out of unconsciousness.

He threw off the covers and got rather uncoordinatedly out of bed. Stumbling over to the table, he blew out both of the candles, took the dish, and dumped its contents into the vase of flowers sitting on one of the windowsills. Reaching forward, he threw open the window and took a deep breath. Feeling his mind starting to clear, he turned and repeated the same motion with the other two windows, but chose to leave the door closed.

Only when conditions were relatively comfortable did he sit back down on the edge of his bed and wonder about what happened. His memory was a little fuzzy on what had happened before the blow that had knocked him out—exactly what had that been? He would have to ask Master Zhen about that.

He remembered everything clearly up to when he had entered the students' compound. He remembered the reflection in the stream that still made him shiver; he remembered his fear, his horror at seeing Meiran's face. What happened after that, he wasn't sure.

Gently stretching his neck muscles out, he wondered how long he had been unconscious. On a whim, he turned on the single television screen in the wall of the room. The screen flickered to life, showing someone on a stretcher being lifted into an ambulance.

Wufei started when he realized it was Duo.

The female reporter's voice came on: "…The firing of the surface-penetrating lasers apparently activated the weapon's failsafe system. Part of the weapon detonated; Altron was caught in the resulting explosion and was badly damaged, while its pilot Duo Maxwell, shown here, was severely injured. The three other Gundams were too far back to be affected by the blast." There was a pause as the scene changed to show an image of Altron. Wufei winced when he saw the charred slashes in the metal, the crumbling alloy. "Although Gundam Altron sustained heavy damage," the reporter's voice said, "Experts say it is still able to fly. Repairs will be completed on its weapons systems as soon as possible for a second attempt by Gundam pilot Heero Yuy."

Wufei turned at the sound of the door opening. Immediately he got to his feet and bowed in respect. "Zhen-sifu."

Master Zhen walked slowly in, leaning heavily on his cane. "Chang-tudi. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you." Wufei pulled a chair over and helped Master Zhen into it.

After getting settled, Master Zhen nodded briefly at the news report, now showing a picture of Heero along with some of his vital statistics. "So you have heard?" he asked.

Wufei shook his head. "Not completely," he said, "What happened, Sifu?"

"Oh, it is complicated," Master Zhen said. "When you could not be located, Duo Maxwell volunteered to go in your place. After a couple of technical accidents in space, he finally got around to firing Altron's new weapon at the asteroid. I'm sure you know what happened after that."

Wufei shook his head. "He was a fool," he said, "He should have known about the possibility of the failsafe activating. He shouldn't have tried if he already knew he could not win."

Master Zhen turned with an amused expression. "What would you have done had you been in his place, Tudi?" he asked.

Wufei shrugged. "I would've found another way," he said, "There is always another way."

"And _that_ is where you go astray," Master Zhen said. When Wufei looked up, he smiled and continued, "You are always looking for the easier path, Wufei. No matter how hidden it may seem, you always believe it is there. And that is why you are the way you are."

"What do you mean?"

"There _is_ no other way, Chang-tudi," Master Zhen said. "Other than to dig yourself a hole and hide. Do you see any other way out of this situation?" He nodded in the direction of the television and Duo. "Do you think _he_ saw one?"

"I don't understand."

Master Zhen shook his head. "Understanding is not the point," he said, "_Action._ Action is what we need here; understanding is nothing." He looked up, and their eyes met. "You know that there is only one way to effectively destroy that asteroid. There is only way to end your pain and to make yourself worthy in the eyes of Meiran…and the world."

Wufei blinked in confusion. "What is that?"

Master Zhen shook his head slowly and rose to his feet. "I do not know; only you do. Contemplate this, Tudi," he said, "It will come to you. I just hope that, when it does, it will not be too late." He walked out of the room.

Wufei watched the door close behind his master. What exactly did his Sifu mean? There was only one way to destroy the asteroid, and that had gone to hell when Duo had gotten himself blown up. So if Altron's new weapon system didn't work—and Wufei had already known it wouldn't—then what other way was there?

He stayed locked in his room for the remainder of the day, taking neither food nor drink. When night descended he slipped into meditation.

He realized it at dawn.


	17. Visit

**A/N: **A faster update, go MeeLee! Summer school's almost over, so I figured I'd post some more. Two more chapters after this and we wrap everything up. A note: please don't assume this chapter is 2x5. I'm not anti-yaoi, but I don't write it either.

            Chapter's kinda short, but I promise the next one'll be rather long.

            Thanks to **ZmajGoddess, Feikins, **and **HeeroDuo4eva** for reviewing.

**BORDEAUX BASE MILITARY HOSPITAL.FRANCE.  1018 HOURS.**

**9 AUGUST.  AC 197.**

            The morning nurse had finished her shift, and it would be another hour before the next nurse came in to check Duo's vital signs.  Wufei, having just entered the cramped hospital room, was grateful for the solitude.

            He wore a simple disguise: his long black hair was pulled up, the ponytail hidden for the most part by the baseball cap he was wearing backwards.  Some typical American clothing, and he easily checked in as Terry Park, a long-time childhood friend of Duo's, a Korean.  He figured all Asians looked the same.

            He didn't know how bad Duo's condition was, but judging by all the instruments beeping and whirring as they monitored his bodily functions, Wufei had to guess it was pretty bad.  Duo himself did not look too much the worse for wear, mainly because only his face was visible above the hospital sheets.  A thick layer of bandages concealed a deep gash in his forehead, and there was a thin scar across his left cheek; both wounds had been caused by flying shrapnel.  Wufei could see nothing else as he came to stand by the seventeen-year-old's bed.

            For a moment he only looked down at Duo in silence.  At long last, he shook his head.  So this was what it had come down to: because he had been so cowardly, so blind as to what he really had to do, Duo had just barely skirted the grasp of the real Shinigami.  Well, he would take care of that.  There would be no more of this; he would no longer cause any more pain, neither to others nor to himself.

            He blinked when he felt a sudden heat stinging his eyes, and felt a single tear make its way down his cheek: his first since that last fateful battle with Treize—or had he been crying yesterday? He couldn't clearly remember.  Either way, he ignored both the tear and the reason for it as he slowly reached out and gently touched Duo's forehead.  He smiled then, a sad smile that plainly bid farewell. 

            "You are such an idiot," he said.  And then he brought his hand back up, joining it with his other hand, and whispered something, his lips barely moving.  No one ever discovered what it was he had said: perhaps it was a prayer, asking for God's forgiveness.  Maybe it was a blessing to make sure Duo survived.  Or maybe it was something else entirely.

            Wufei turned and walked out of the hospital room.  He took the stairs down to the bottom floor, reversing his cap and pulling it down to shade most of his face.  Exiting the hospital, he began walking rapidly toward the repair factory in the distance, where he knew Altron was waiting.


	18. Sacrifice

**A/N: **This chapter is rather long because it encompasses so many different points of view of one given situation. Anyway, let me just tell you one thing before I let you loose: THIS IS NOT THE END!!!! There's an epilogue coming up and _that_ is the true end of the story.

I'm not saying anything more about the contents of this chapter. Enjoy!

Thanks to **ZmajGoddess, HeeroDuo4eva, **and** Feikins**.

**SHANGHAI. 1720 HOURS.**

**9 AUGUST. AC 197.**

Yu Xingnan rushed into Master Zhen's compound, breathless. "Zhen-sifu!" he cried, "Zhen-sifu, Wufei is missing!"

Master Zhen turned and smiled. "Yes, I know."

Xingnan blinked. "What?"

Master Zhen nodded to the television screen. "Look." Xingnan turned, and visibly started. The news report showed Gundam Altron, only partially repaired but still in flying condition, making its way out of Earth's atmosphere, headed straight for the asteroid. The image was being conveyed via an orbiting news satellite.

"Earlier today," the reporter's voice said, "Altron was apparently stolen from the Mobile Suit repair facility in Bordeaux Base, France. Just recently, satellites picked up its signal exiting the atmosphere, and Ground Control was able to make one exchange with the Gundam before communication was terminated."

There came a pause, and then a crackly voice said, "Gundam Altron, this is Ground Control. Gundam Altron, do you read? Over."

There was a moment of silence, then a burst of static and a familiar voice said, "I read you, Ground Control. What do you want?"

"Gundam Altron, we order you to turn back," the first voice said, "I repeat, come about and return to Bordeaux Base, over."

A low chuckle sounded, followed by, "You can give me all the orders you want in Hell. You won't be seeing me for a while. Out."

Xingnan jumped. "That's—"

The reporter's voice came back. "The pilot of the Gundam was identified as seventeen-year-old Chang Wufei, who has been reported missing for the past week or so. There have been attempts to reestablish communications, but the Gundam pilot is refusing to cooperate, and is currently still on course, headed for the asteroid. ETA two minutes."

"What is he trying to do?" Xingnan demanded, "He knows the weapon won't work!"

Master Zhen nodded. "Yes," he said, "But there is something else that will work." He shook his head. "I wish he had another option," he said, "But there was only one other way."

Xingnan turned. "And what was that, Sifu?" he asked.

Master Zhen did not reply.

**SPACE. 1720 HOURS.**

**9 AUGUST. AC 197.**

Wufei somehow managed to keep his shaking hands under control enough to operate the joystick. Up ahead, he could see the asteroid towering in front of him; he felt his courage quail at its size. What if it didn't work? What if…

There was no time for this. It was now or never.

Reaching forward, he activated Altron's two powerful vulcans. They ripped through airless space, slamming into the asteroid, eating away at the rock but doing no serious damage. That didn't bother Wufei, however. And pretty soon, nothing would be bothering him anymore.

He drew out his katana and slammed the tip of it into the firing button for the vulcans, bracing the handle against the back of the cockpit so that the two massive laser cannons kept firing. Then he reached forward, closing his fingers firmly around the throttle.

With his other hand, he flipped a switch, activating the comm system once again. "—tron, do you read? This is Ground Control, over."

"Make sure I receive no honor for this," he said, his voice amazingly calm. "I don't deserve any. Out."

"Gundam pilot! What are you—" The voice was cut off when Wufei switched the system off once again.

Turning back to the asteroid, he narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly where to hit to accomplish what he wanted to do. MANTA-6 definitely wasn't going to be happy with this.

Then again, he wouldn't be around to care.

**MANTA-6 HQ SS. 1721 HOURS.**

**9 AUGUST. AC 197.**

"Sir! Registering Gundam 05 on the long-range sensors!"

Commander Lane looked up and, surely enough, he saw an image of Altron, engines at full power, headed straight for them. He smiled. "Well, hello, Chang," he said, "Nice of you to drop by." Turning to the rest of his men, he barked, "Stay on course, and take no action against the Gundam. At best, he'll try to use that weapon of his again, and if he does, activate the secondary failsafe."

"Yes, sir—"

The building shook. Lane looked up, frowning when he saw that both of Altron's massive vulcan cannons were firing. They were doing some considerable damage to the outer casing of the asteroid, but nothing serious.

"We're under fire!" one of the technicians cried, "Activating secondary failsafe—"

"No." Lane shook his head. "Let him fire. It won't do any good when he activates that weapon anyway."

"Sir!" his main pilot cried, "Altron still approaching, sir! Closing in at top speed, distance forty meters!"

Lane jumped down from the bridge and ran to the computer console. Sure enough, Altron was still coming. "He's insane!" he cried, "If he activates the weapon at this range, he'll burn himself out!"

"Sensors indicate that Altron's SPLs are currently inactive, sir!"

"_What?_" The man had lost his mind! What was he planning to do? He definitely couldn't hope to destroy their weapon with his vulcans alone, and with his primary weapon inactive, what could possibly…

"Activate the secondary failsafe!" he yelled, terror registering in his mind as he suddenly realized what the pilot was trying to do. "Activate it _now!_ We can't let—" He never finished.

**SPACE. 1722 HOURS.**

**9 AUGUST. AC 197.**

"_All right, you son of a bitch!_" Wufei yelled at the top of his lungs, "_Let's see how _you_ like it!_"

He slammed the throttle all the way down. Altron's engines roared; he was barely meters away from the asteroid now, still burning through the rock with the twin vulcans.

Wufei's scream must have echoed through the entire vast realm of space. "_BANZAI!!!_"

**SHANGHAI. 1722 HOURS.**

**9 AUGUST. AC 197.**

"_Wufei!_" Yu Xingnan could only stand frozen where he was, watching helplessly as Altron breached the remaining distance and collided headon into the asteroid.

Master Zhen rubbed his face with his hand. "I am so sorry,Chang-tudi," he said.

**BORDEAUX BASE.FRANCE. 1722 HOURS.**

**9 AUGUST. AC 197.**

The explosion, small as it was on the screen, filled the room with a blinding flash so that all its occupants had to shield their eyes.

"What the hell is he thinking?" Sally Po cried.

"He's insane!" Noin yelled.

"I don't think he cares," Trowa, a bandage covering a burn on his arm, said.

"Why would he—why just—" Quatre choked on his words.

Heero said nothing, although his right cheek twitched with emotion. Standing at the back of the room next to the other three scientists, Doctor J smiled.

_(A/N: I sincerely apologize to all fellow Wufei fans.)_


	19. Epilogue

**A/N: **Again, I would like to apologize to everyone who was severely saddened by the ending of the last chapter. It took a lot of courage to write. (Well, a lot of courage and some junk food, too.)

Anyway, this is officially the ending of "Nataku's Tears." I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. The epilogue was written more as an after-thought than as an actual part of the story, but you may find it interesting all the same. I'd like to extend my gratitude to everyone who has reviewed this story, and especially those who have supported it from beginning to end. I hope you'll be back for the debut of my future GW fics!

EPILOGUE

Seventeen-year-old Duo Maxwell didn't know what to expect as he pulled up in front of the small apartment building and looked up at it. A month had passed since that fateful day when Wufei had destroyed MANTA-6, blowing up the asteroid without detonating the weapon and saving the planet, sacrificing his own life in the process. A short military funeral had been conducted, just the skin and bones of it, nothing special or extraordinary. Chang Wufei should have been honored as an international hero, but instead he had been given the courtesy of any regular soldier. Duo did not mind, however. He knew the Chinese boy would have wanted it that way.

And it was precisely because Wufei had taken absolutely no action in arranging things after his death—or would it be suicide? Duo didn't know, and neither did he care—that here Duo was, walking up the steps to Wufei's apartment, lugging a heavy trash bag full of paper bags and boxes, ready to clean out the man's place. It wasn't exactly a pleasant job, but Duo felt it was the least he could do for his friend.

Because that's what Wufei was. He was and always would be Duo's friend. No matter how many times the Gundam pilots had all tried to deny it, something had existed beneath their hard, cold exteriors, something warmer that pulsed with feeling. Up until a month ago, Duo would never have believed it himself. But when he had awoken, heard the news, and seen the security tape that showed Wufei plainly standing in the hospital room beside him, he knew something had existed between them.

He pulled out the master key card from his pocket and slid it through the reader. The lock gave a click and the door swung wide open. Duo stepped inside, setting the bag on the floor.

It was a relatively small place, as he had expected. He was standing in the living room, and he could see the kitchen nearby, a short hallway, and a couple of rooms beyond that. He set to work immediately, exploring the various rooms and collecting everything into boxes and bags. The living room was relatively normal; aside from a few Asian decorations here and there, it looked like the average family gathering place. The kitchen, Duo discovered, was entirely void of food, although he did find a drawer full of eating utensils, including several sets of chopsticks. As for the two rooms down the hallway: one was a bonus room that had a very sophisticated computer system, and the other was Wufei's own bedroom.

Duo spent approximately half an hour in the computer room, hacking into the system and downloading all the files. After stashing the disks safely away into a box, he moved on to the bedroom.

This room was small also, like the rest of the apartment, and it was obvious that Wufei did not spend much time here. There was a single bunk at one end of the room that looked as if it belonged in a prison cell. There was one chair pulled up to a small oak desk, on top of which Duo found a variety of calligraphy brushes and sheets of paper covered with brush drawings and graceful Chinese characters. Other than a dresser off to one side, the drawers of which Duo discovered were completely empty, there was nothing else in the room save for a single vase of wilting white roses on the windowsill.

After exploring the drawers of the small desk and finding nothing, Duo proceeded to pack all the calligraphy equipment and the papers into a box. Finished with that, he turned to leave—and stopped when something caught his eye.

It was a single silver photo frame, so small that he had missed it the first time going through. His curiosity got the better of him, and so he set the box down, walked over, and picked up the frame, peering carefully at the face that smiled up at him.

It was not Wufei, as Duo had expected. It appeared to be a girl of Oriental descent; Duo had to guess she was Chinese. She looked about fourteen years old, and had long black hair that cascaded over her shoulders in two pigtails. She wasn't very beautiful, but she wasn't hideous either.

"Wonder who this is," Duo said, and dropped the frame into the box.


End file.
